The Family Business
by Marion Hood
Summary: Continuation to Hermione's Angel. Hermione finds herself dragged into a new world, with a new conflict and new enemies. But hopefully, new friends and family too.
1. Hunter with a shotgun

"What the hell is going on here?"

Dean's outburst broke the staring contest between Hermione and Castiel. Hermione was, in Sam's somewhat biased eyes, strange. Her features suggested an age somewhere between Sam and Dean's own, but it was a furtive suggestion as though something had aged her beyond her years. Dark brown eyes watched them warily, her legs were tensed to run and although she looked relieved to see Castiel, her stance was one twitch away from defensive. She looked as though she hadn't slept in months and her face was angled with sharp cheekbones that spoke of malnourishment and stress that both brothers knew all too well. Hermione focused her attention on them and her lip curled.

"Sam and Dean?"

They nodded reluctantly, well aware of the weight their names now carried, their guns still held by their sides. Her eyes became accusing but for once she wasn't glaring at them. Castiel sighed heavily, opening his mouth to speak, but she cut across him.

"No." Hermione swore, stepping back. The low hanging branches brushed against her face but she seemed not to care. "I came here to see if you were real. To get better. I didn't come here to become embroiled in some war." She turned on her heel and stalked off.

"People will die." Castiel called, and his words carried the strength of the garrison behind them, forcing her to freeze.

"People always die." She returned angrily, but Dean caught the slight shaking in her hands which showed the angel's words had hit their intended target. "It's what people do."

"But those peoples deaths will not be on your shoulders."

Sam stared aghast at the angel. Neither of them had seen him this callous in months. He'd been getting better, becoming more human...

Hermione turned back to them and both Winchesters took a step back as self preservation kicked in.

"Don't you dare!" She hissed, eyes sparking with fire. "Don't you _dare_ lecture me. Do you know the weight on my shoulders? I've lost friends...family. You know the sacrifices I made, Castiel and I have a nation trying to rebuild itself around me. I am _not_ adding to my problems! Not now!"

Castiel didn't step back or look away.

"The end of the world is coming." He intoned. "Lilith is breaking the sixty six seals and she is almost finished. Without you the Apocalypse will happen and the Winchesters will fail."

Sam and Dean gaped at him.

"And you're telling us this _now_!" Sam yelped. Castiel didn't respond, just stared accusingly at Hermione.

"Now I know how Harry felt." Hermione snarled and stepped back. "You said you needed a daughter of the earth. There are thousands of us, millions. Why, out of them all, does it have to be _me?"_

"I ask myself the same thing everyday." Dean mumbled. "Listen, Cas. If she doesn't want to help then you can't make her. It's her choice."

"Did you?" Hermione asked suddenly, staring across the clearing at the brothers.

"What?"

"Did _you _get a choice?"

Sam and Dean glanced at each other frowning.

"Well...uh..."

"Then _I_ haven't got a choice." She snapped. "So why me, Castiel?"

The angel's eyes narrowed, which was as close as he got to actually scowling.

"Because it has to be you, just as it has to be Dean. The Righteous Man and the Brightest Witch. It has always, and will always, be you."

Dean recoiled as though stung and both hunters had their guns up. Hermione's wand was raised a fraction of a second later.

"She's a _witch_!"

Hermione glanced from them to the angel, spun on the spot and vanished, the crack from Dean's bullet echoing after her. There was an agonised scream from somewhere ahead of them and Castiel grabbed their shoulders.

A second later they stumbled into a dense thicket of trees.

Hermione was slumped on the ground, blood pooling from her shoulder. She raised her wand as Castiel started towards her.

"Stay away from me." She gasped, but her voice lacked the strength to hold much vehemence .

"I can heal it." He promised.

"So he can shoot me again?" Slowly she pulled herself to her feet, wand aimed at her shoulder. A casual flick and the bent and bloody remains of the bullet flew from the tattered remains of her shirt, taking a bloody hunk of flesh with it. She gasped and almost toppled over, but Sam leapt forward and grabbed her elbow, hauling her up again.

"Sam..." Dean barked and he could hear the accusation.

"Do you really think an angel would want us to team up with someone who sold their soul?" Sam snapped and turned his back on his brother, lowering his voice. "I'm really sorry about this, but if you just let Cas..."

"NO!" She jerked back, grabbing a branch for support. Castiel had evidently had enough, because he appeared directly in front of her and pressed two fingers to her forehead, simultaneously healing the bullet wound and sending her to sleep in Sam's arms.

* * *

They watched her sleep off the angel mojo in the motel room. Sam was certain that it was probably rather creepy, especially when taken out of context, but they wanted to make sure she didn't vanish again when they weren't looking. Her stick, or wand as Castiel had called it, was sitting on the bedside table of their motel room by her head. Both Winchesters knew what it was like to wake up in a strange place with no weapon.

"Why did you shoot her?" Sam asked at last.

"Reflex." His brother muttered. It wasn't much of a defence, but in their case it worked. "I heard witch and..."

"Bang." Sam whispered.

"And you're sure she's not evil?" Dean repeated.

Castiel sighed. The angel had spent the last ten minutes explaining the differences between sorceresses and witches, and although it sounded completely ridiculous that an entire population had managed to avoid the hunters radar, it wasn't impossible. After all, none of them had believed in angels until Castiel had dragged Dean back from hell.

Some people awake slowly. Some people have that luxury. Hermione woke up in the same way that Sam and Dean did. Suddenly, with hands grasping for absent weapons.

"Whoah." Sam held his palms out flat, trying to sooth her. "It's okay."

She snatched her wand up and backed away, sitting so she was crouched against the headboard.

The Winchesters stared at the woman, who lifted her chin and glared straight back. Her free hand fluttered to her shoulder, pressing against the blood soaked fabric.

"Thank you." She murmured, staring accusingly at Dean who was leaning against the wall. Sam, who'd been sitting on the foot of the bed, smiled reassuringly. She didn't return it.

Castiel shrugged.

"I will leave you to get acquainted. Please do not kill each other."

He vanished without another word and Dean swore, kicking out at the nearest chair in his anger.

"I'm sorry about him." Sam apologised.

Hermione arched her eyebrow.

"Dean or Castiel?" She replied quietly.

Sam flushed.

"Er...both, I guess."

Hermione drew her knees up and rested her chin on them, eyeing them curiously.

"As it appears my opinion no longer counts for anything..." She said softly and both brothers winced. "Perhaps you should tell me what we're up against."

"You're staying?" Dean spluttered. "I mean I..."

"I don't seem to have much choice in the matter, do I?" She asked bitterly, cutting across him. "Besides I'm hardly the type to allow innocent people to be hurt when I could do something to help."

Dean sighed and nodded, evidently finding common ground.

"Basically, it's us and the angels against Hell."

"Demons?" She asked sharply and Sam could see a glimmer of interest in her eyes.

"Yeah." Dean scowled. "You got a problem with that?"

"Have you got a problem with witches?" She countered.

"Yeah.."

"Anyway," Sam broke across his brother, unwilling to see bullets flying again. "Hell, or Lilith, I suppose, is trying to break the sixty six seals to free Lucifer from the cage."

Hermione chewed her lip thoughtfully.

"I shall assume that the Morning Star walking free would be a bad thing."

"Extremely." Sam pushed his hair back, ignoring his fuming brother.

"How many seals are left?" She asked and behind her eyes Sam could see a mind like his, filing away facts.

Sam shrugged.

"We don't know. She only has to break sixty six of hundreds and no one will tell us which ones she might try for."

Hermione's nose twitched in irritation and she pushed her hair back so it was out of her eyes, pulling a stray twig from the curls.

"That's unhelpful." she said at last.

Sam nodded glumly as his brother spoke up suddenly.

"You're taking this very calmly." He challenged.

Hermione shrugged, eyes fixed on a point on the wall, avoiding even looking at Dean.

"Aside from the partial concern that my hallucinations have started up again...this _isn't_ the most insane thing I've ever heard of. What's your end goal here?"

"To stop the Apocalypse." Dean stated as though she was an idiot.

Hermione's eyes sharpened, evidently picking up on the undercurrents in Dean's voice.

"Sorry. I shall reiterate for those of a lower IQ. How do you intend to stop Lilith?"

The brothers glances at each other.

"We're gonna kill her." Sam told her slowly.

"Wonderful." Hermione rubbed her forehead. "Why you two? What makes you so special that you can do what angels can't?"

"Should I be insulted, or what?" Dean whispered to Sam. Sam just rolled his eyes.

"Honestly, we don't know. We're just trying to do damage control down here, as well as tracking demons, hunting monsters. We don't even know Cas that well, he just pops in when Heaven wants us to do something."

"Like meet me." Hermione murmured. Her brown eyes jumped to Dean. "Are you going to shoot me again?"

"Are you going to try and kill me?" Dean demanded.

She gave a humourless laugh and relaxed, stretching her denim clad legs out on the bed.

"Touché."

"How do you know Cas?"

She frowned, evidently still very wary of them. No matter what assurances they might pretend to give her, they _radiated_ dangerous. But then again, on some level, so did she.

"Castiel?" She shrugged delicately. "He came looking for me. He told me I would be able to help you with something. That was in April, I think."

"And you thought you were hallucinating?" Sam asked, thinking back to their earlier conversation.

"I had my reasons." She murmured darkly.

"And...how old are you?" Dean asked sceptically, eyeing her smaller form with disdain. Sam sighed. His brother was an excellent hunter, but people were really more Sam's area of expertise. All Dean would see when he looked at her was a skinny girl, not a fighter.

"Twenty. I think." She murmured, cocking her head to one side. Her movement exposed a scar on her neck that looked like someone had held a knife to her throat.

"Don't you know?" Sam got to his feet, beginning to pace as the unusual and unfinished answers made his head swirl. He hadn't seen Ruby in days and this...was testing his patience.

She winced, mistaking his frustration for anger.

"Time travel is a messy business." she offered as an explanation. "I lived one year twice."

Dean scoffed.

"Great. Because like we said, we are at _war_ with hell and, no offence sweetheart, but you don't look like you know a damn thing that could help us."

Her eyes flashed darkly and she leapt off the bed so she was standing toe to toe with Dean, glaring up at him.

"Believe me, you two dunderheads don't know the first thing about war." She snapped scornfully. Sam paused, taken aback.

"And you do?" Dean blustered, evidently angry. "You're a kid."

"And how old were you when you started in this life?" She demanded coldly. "Because Castiel told me all about you, and no matter how much pain I'm in, I _never_ forget a story."

"That's not..." Dean glowered. "I'm trying to give you a way out here, dammit. I'm talking about open combat, not some game. We've lost too many people to play babysitter to some school girl."

"Hermione has been a soldier since she was eleven."

Everyone flinched as the angel flashed back into the room. Castiel glared at Dean. "I asked her to join us because it was foretold."

"Not this again." Dean groaned.

Hermione turned calculating eyes on the angel.

"I have to ask though. What exactly is it you believe I can help you with? Because these two seem to be managing fine on their own and they evidently don't want me here."

"The Apocalypse." Castiel told her seriously.

Hermione drew in a deep breath and seemed to compose her self.

"And more specifically...?" She asked through gritted teeth.

The angel had the grace to look slightly sheepish.

"We're uh...the prophecy has never been very clear."

"Please tell me you know!" She demanded, throwing her hands in the air, hair sparking in her anger.

The angel looked frustrated, tugging on the ends of his trench coat.

"No one is entirely sure what _it_ is, that only you can help with."

"So you just want me to hang around until something in my skill set turns up?" Hermione snarled.

"Yes."

They all stared at the angel.

"I take it back." She breathed at last, "This _is_ the most utterly insane I've ever heard."

* * *

"Why am I here, Castiel?"

"I told..."

"No, really..." She stopped him before he could repeat his stock answers. "_Why_ am I here?"

They were sitting outside on a bench. The brothers were taking time to talk things over and judging from the shouting, things weren't going very well.

Castiel sighed.

"I am following orders." He said at last, with that voice that sounded far too deep for his vessel to manage. "Lately my path has seemed...unclear. We have been losing this war and I took drastic steps...I... I brought you here, Hermione, because I was ordered to."

"By God?" She asked, somewhat scornfully.

The Angel shrugged.

"God's will is beyond our comprehension."

"I'm not asking about God's will." She reprimanded softly. "I'm asking about you. Because the way things stand, everything you've told me, you've got angels on the wrong side, you've got demons fighting the good fight, which I still don't rightly believe, by the way." Castiel expression changed slightly.

"Why did _you_ bring me here?"

"The Righteous Man will stop the Apocalypse, but Dean Winchester still needs to be saved."

She gave a bitter sigh.

"So I'm hero chasing again, brilliant."

The motel room door swung open with a crash and in the second Hermione took to look over her shoulder, the angel vanished. Dean grimaced at her.

"I hate it when he does that. C'mon, we need to talk."

* * *

"How about a test run?" Sam said at last.

Hermione and Dean took a break from glaring at each other, to glare at him. Sam almost faltered under the brown and green stares.

"What?"

"A test run. Look..." He passed over the paper, tapping the relevant section with a pen.

"Several dead...freak accidents...All similar situations..."

"All died in the same building." Sam finished. "I'm thinking it's worth checking out, at least. We take Hermione along and see how she handles it."

Hermione's eyes narrowed at him.

Dean nodded slowly, a small smirk crossing his face.

"Yeah, all right. It's what, two towns over? We can be there this afternoon."

* * *

**_And this, Ladies and Gentlemen, is the start of the story I've been promising you for weeks. _**

**_It's going to be a long fic, probably much longer than all my other Supernatural/Potter fics. _**

**_So I hope you're willing to bare with me. I'll try and get this done before I start college. _**

**_We're unbeta'd, so any glaring mistakes, feel free to point them out. _**

**_Let me know what you think._**

**_Hood_**


	2. Training the Enemy

Hermione was quiet. Almost unnaturally so. In fact if it hadn't been for the way Dean's eyes flickered to the rear view mirror every five seconds to check on their passenger, her presence would have been easily forgotten. She sat in the back seat of the Impala, hands folded in her lap, watching the scenery of small town America whiz past the window, Black Sabbath playing in the background.

Their investigation was fairly straight forward, a simple salt and burn. Hermione stayed close to Sam, something that only served to make Dean grumpier but Sam suspected it was more because she thought he might not shoot her. The house was everything that had been advertised. A tall building, almost a hundred years old, with stone edges and a slight scent of damp.

"What's that?"

Sam jumped and stared at her for a second before he looked back to his hand. The EMF reader bleeped merrily as they made their way through the house. Up ahead, Dean snorted in disgust.

"It's an EMF meter."

She smiled and nodded.

"I have no idea what that is." She admitted.

Sam hurried to explain before his brother could use it as an excuse to run off the only person to volunteer to help in months.

"It registers the electromagnetic fields in the air. In areas where a ghost has been active there are higher readings."

This time her nod was slightly less sarcastic.

"And in this house the readings are off the scale." Sam tucked the EMF back into his pocket. "Dean, we need to go before the cops come back."

His brother nodded and they left, Hermione trailing behind them.

* * *

"Bonnie Jones." Sam read off the coroners report. "Choked to death on rose petals." He exchanged a somewhat amused glance with his brother over the slab. "Interesting."

"Yeah, it's a weird one all right." The pathologist scoffed. He looked like he'd be glad to ship this particular case off to the funeral home. "We had one just like it when I started here, musta been, what, twenty years ago now? Boyfriend found her in her flat. She'd been pretty too." Dean frowned, noting something down in his notebook.

As the pathologist talked them through the autopsy, Sam's gaze slid to where he'd suspected Hermione was. When they'd told her they'd have to go undercover as FBI she'd barely batted an eyelid.

"You haven't got an ID." Dean had argued.

Hermione had smirked, twirling her wand around her fingers.

"You won't even know I'm there." She promised.

The Winchesters had taken her eyes off her for a second when they reached the receptionist at the hospital and when they'd glanced back, she'd been gone.

Well, not entirely gone. Sam knew she was there and by Dean's stiff shoulders and irritated glares, he knew it too. There was the occasional glimpse of brown hair or jeans as she wandered after them. In fact Sam was almost entirely certain the she was standing right next to his shoulder. He resisted the urge to nudge the air with his elbow. The pathologist finished quickly, either keen to get rid of them, or keen to get back to his large pile of paperwork.

"What the hell was that?" Dean demanded, the moment she became visible again.

Hermione gave him a look of mild disgust and leaned against the Impala. Dean's scowl deepened.

"Notice-Me-Not charm mixed with a Disillusionment. Tricky work." She sighed at their blank expressions. "On a muggle, that's you two by the way, it makes me virtually invisible. Once you know how it works it won't work so well. Your brain know what tricks to look for."

Dean shuddered and Sam did his best to suppress his curiosity, for his brother sake at least. The last thing they needed was for Dean to have a heart attack due to sheer rage.

"C'mon." He said instead. "We've got some research to do."

Hermione visible brightened, even as his brother wilted.

"On?" She asked promptly.

"We need to figure out who the ghost is, so we can burn it's bones."

"Spirit." Hermione corrected. Sam shot her a look as Dean slid into the front seat. "It's not a ghost, if it was I'd be able to see it. It's a spirit. Different kettle of fish."

* * *

"You any good on a laptop?" Sam asked, offering her the computer. Hermione winced and backed away, holding her hands out as though to ward off any strange electrical devices.

"You _really_ don't want me to touch that." She stressed.

"Why?" Dean had gone out to scrounge up some food (and avoid researching as long as possible), leaving Sam and Hermione with the brunt of the work.

"Um..." She flushed. "Well, partly because I've never used a computer and now is probably not the time to start and partly because I'm worried it might...explode."

Sam held his laptop against his chest protectively and backed away.

"Not on purpose!" She assured him, eyes wide. "It's just my magic...complex electronics...I melted my mother's television once and that was just when I lost my temper."

Carefully Sam set the laptop down on the table, well away from Hermione.

"How come you've never used one?"

She shrugged, already digging through the boxes of files the local Sheriff's Office had given them.

"They weren't really a big thing when I was growing up and I spent more time reading than attempting to understand computer games." She shrugged. "My parents had one in their clinic, but that was for patient records and the like."

"Clinic?"

She sent him a ghost of a smile.

"My parents are dentists. Rather good ones, in fact. Anyway, after that I was ensconced in a community which still uses candles to see." she flicked the dust off a page. "There wasn't much call for computer skills."

"Huh."

They worked in silence for a while and when Dean came back they worked in the frustrated silence of a man being forced to do something he hates.

* * *

"I think..." Hermione said at last, drawing both sets of eyes to her. "That I might have it." She passed Sam a file, which Dean promptly snatched away. "Stephanie Innis was murdered sixty years ago. The offical story was that she'd been seeing this..boy and _his_ girlfriend, Bethany Jacobs, turned up and confronted her about it. According to the pathologists report she knocked Stephanie unconscious..." Hermione's nose wrinkled. "And stuffed her throat with a bunch of roses the boyfriend had bought her. She committed suicide after that and Stephanie choked to death."

"Now, don't that sound familiar?" Dean quipped.

Sam was already tapping away at his laptop.

"All the victims since them were all women of a similar age, build...I think this ghost has a type. And...I think we know who she is. Bethany Jacobs, like Hermione said. Her family was Catholic and she was buried outside the local graveyard."

Dean grinned.

"Not cremated?"

"Nope."

"Why isn't it always this simple?"

* * *

"Ghosts who've been cremated, have to be attached to something." Sam explained. "Their bones are gone but they managed to cling on to something, a hair, a piece of skin, saliva. Once you burn that, they're gone."

Hermione nodded, leaning forward in her seat to talk to him.

"And the salt acts as a purifier?" She clarified.

"Yeah." Sam grinned at her. It was nice to have someone around that he could _really_ talk to. Dean grunted and shoved one of his tapes into the player, cranking the sound up.

* * *

They pulled up at the church, night falling quietly around them. Bethany may not have been buried on Church grounds but she did have a tombstone.

"You won't need those." Hermione said suddenly, gesturing to their shovels.

"Oh yeah?" Dean rested the shovel across his shoulders and glared down at her. "How's that?"

Hermione leaned around him and flicked her wand. A large pile of grave dirt lifted and fell in a heap at the side of the tombstone. She smirked up at the dumbstruck hunter.

"I can do it faster."

It took Hermione about three minutes to reach the coffin and in that time Dean's glare went from annoyed to calculating. Sam just leaned on his shovel and watched amused. Dean jumped into the hole and the brittle coffin lid cracked open under his weight.

"Salt."

"Hermione, can you..."

She nodded and rummaged in Dean's duffel bag. She passed the large tub down to Dean and very nearly cracked him across the skull with it. Once the bones were covered and Dean had pulled himself out of the grave, Sam turned to Hermione smiling.

"I don't suppose you're any good with fire?"

She coughed, hiding a smile.

"_Incendio_." she whispered and the coffin burst into flames.

"So what did you mean that this ain't a ghost?" Dean asked as they stood around the burning body.

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"If you could see it, then it wasn't a ghost." She said simply. "Did I pass your little test?"

"Hah!"

* * *

Hermione was banished to the motel room. She would've been banished to the car, but Dean valued his baby too much to let some witch sit in her unattended.

"No."

"Dean..."

Dean glared at him.

"Ruby is one thing...but we don't even know this girl. She's trouble, Sam."

Sam leaned his head back, sighing.

"She's willing to help." He murmured. "That has to count for something at least." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Think about this way. _Nothing_ we've tried so far has put us any closer to stopping Lilith. The seals are still being broken, the angels are still being dicks and we haven't heard from Ruby," Dean's face tightened slightly. "In weeks. Why can't we at least give this a try? You saw she can help."

"Yeah, I saw magic!" Dean protested. "It's wrong, Sam and you know it."

"Not all magic is bad." Sam sighed. "Just give her a chance. She's actually pretty nice if you talk to her. Castiel wouldn't have brought her if she was going to hurt us."

Dean groaned and rested his head against the steering wheel.

"Fine." He mumbled.

"What?"

"Fine." he repeated, marginally louder. "She can stay. But one sign of...weirdness and I'm gonna shoot her again."

Sam grinned triumphantly, but made sure his brother couldn't see it. He wasn't suicidal.

* * *

"I can't stay here all the time."

The Winchesters and their latest unwilling ally were seated in a both at a diner, trying to work out logistics. It was late and all three were bone tired and cold.

"How come?" Dean demanded. "Because if you're not serious about this...?"

Hermione glared at them.

"I have a job, if you must know."

Sam smiled slightly, toying with the cutlery.

"What do you do?"

She laughed, glancing out the window at the rain soaked car park.

"I work in the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures."

"Long title." Sam mumbled.

"Hang on...so when you say magical creatures...?" Dean's green eyes narrowed and he watched her warily. Not that he hadn't been doing so continuously for the last day or so.

Hermione went slightly pink.

"Er...I work with werewolves, vampires, centaurs, the Fey. It's a wide range of creatures. Not goblins though, they have their own office." She grinned, evidently enthused by her work. "Once I pass my exams, I'll be able to put laws in place to protect them."

The Winchesters stared at her.

"You're trying to _protect_ those monsters?" Dean demanded incredulously.

"Yes. And they're not monsters." She added hotly. "That's a common misconception amongst people, due to horrible stereotypes."

"No. They're monsters, _because_ they're monsters."

"Your logic is astounding." She told Dean, sarcasm dripping from every word. Sam only just kept himself from smirking.

"What do you do when one of these..." Sam's face twisted in disgust. "Creatures, hurt someone?"

"Department regulations are very clear." She frowned. "If they are at a point beyond return, a department member is dispatched to..." Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "dispose of them."

"So...you're hunters?"

She gave an exasperated sigh.

"I suppose. When we have to be."

Dean nodded grimly.

"So, do you have to pass exams for that too?"

Hermione gave a hollow laugh, glancing around the Diner. She looked out of place here, with her pale complexion and crisp accent.

"No. People with my reputation don't have to."

Sam frowned.

"_You_ have a reputation?" He scoffed.

She levelled him with a glare Dean almost recognised.

"War heroes generally do." She sighed and changed the subject. "I took the next week off work." She offered. "I can stay as long as that. Afterwards I have to go back to England, at least during the day."

Sam gaped at her.

"You want us to train you as a hunter in a week?"

She grinned.

"I'm a fast learner."

* * *

"This is our dad's journal." Dean handed the leather bound journal over slowly as though he didn't want to let go of it. "Everything he ever came across is in there."

Hermione settled the book on her lap and traced her fingers over the cover.

"Can I read it?" She asked, mainly because Dean looked like he wanted to take the book back and run a mile.

"Yeah." Hermione nodded and made herself comfortable in the back of the Impala to read. She didn't make a sound for the next hour, but occasionally noted something down in her own notebook. They were crossing the state border when she handed it back to Sam.

"Done." She said quietly.

"You read the whole thing?" Sam asked doubtfully.

"Mmhmm. What's next?"

"What do you do with a werewolf?" Dean asked, not taking his eyes off the road.

She sighed and her eyes lost the gleam of interest she'd had. They looked dead now, Sam thought. Dead and empty.

"Silver bullets."

"Vampire?"

"Decapitate."

"What are witches?"

"Human dabbling in things they don't understand." She glared at the back of Dean's head. "And technically they're more akin to Necromancers. What they're using isn't true witchcraft."

Sam turned in his seat.

"So what's true witchcraft then?"

Hermione beamed at him.

"A lot less selling your soul, a lot more rituals at sunset. Witchcraft comes from the earth and it's more about purity and energies." She shrugged. "I wouldn't know, I've never practised it."

"But you're a witch?" Dean questioned.

"In title and gender only. Technically speaking I'm a sorceress." She held her wand up so Sam could see it. "I channel my magic through my wand," Dean snorted and Hermione sent a disgusted glare his way. "I rely on runes and spells to achieve the same ends. My only knowledge of witchcraft comes from potion making and Herbology."

"Runes?"

Hermione frowned and rummaged in her bag. Sam's eyebrows rose when she managed to lose her entire arm inside.

"I know I've got a book around here somewhere." There was a loud clang and she sighed. "That'll be the cauldron." She muttered. "Ah ha! This is a basic school book but it should give you a general view." She pulled a book, far too large to fit in her bag, from her bag and handed it to Sam, who was staring at her in shock. "What?"

"Your bag?" He managed.

"Undetectable extension charm." She zipped it closed again and settled back in her seat as Sam opened the textbook. "So what does this training include?"

"You any good in a fight?" Dean demanded, tapping the steering wheel.

"I do all right."

Dean grunted.

"Right. Well, we're heading to South Dakota. We gotta friend up there whose got everything you'd ever need to be a hunter."

Hermione watched him coolly but nodded.

"All right then." She murmured.

* * *

They'd driven for hours and even Sam was wary of his brother by this point. Dean had listened to tape after tape, cranked as loud as they could go. As far as he knew, Hermione hadn't slept at all, staring out the window the entire night. The Impala pulled into Singer Salvage Yard at about seven the next morning and Dean was out of the car before the keys were. Bobby was waiting for them on his porch, glaring.

"Hey Bobby." Dean grimaced as his surrogate father splashed him with Holy Water. "Not a demon, Bobby."

Bobby scowled at him.

"Well, what was I supposed to think? Sam calls me to say you're bringing a witch here to train her as a hunter?"

Dean glanced back at the car, where Hermione and Sam were hiding.

"Look, I know it sounds strange, but..."

"No stranger than your brother being physic. That her?" Bobby didn't wait for an answer just strode over to the witch, as Dean preferred to think of her. Hermione eyed him warily and Dean sighed when he saw her hand reach into her pocket.

She stood still for the Holy Water, barely seeming to breath as it trickled over her head. The Christo didn't make her flinch either, but when Bobby pulled out his silver knife and reached for her arm...it must have been too far. Her eyes widened in shock and Hermione threw herself to the side, twisting as she went. She never hit the ground and Sam stared, amazed, at the dirt where she'd been standing.

"Dammit, Bobby!" The taller man shouted. "What you have to go and pull a knife on her for?"

Bobby glared at them.

"I was trying to make sure she was safe!" he yelled back. "And guess what? I was right!"

"You can't just go pulling knives on people, she's a civilian."

"No, she's not." Dean reminded them, leading the way into the house. "Remember what Cas said? That she'd been a soldier for years? If she can't handle knives how the hell is she supposed to help us?"

Sam clenched his jaw.

"Don't you think it's possible that there _might_ be more to the story than that?" He argued.

Dean handed him a beer and didn't respond.

* * *

Hermione fumbled with the buttons of the payphone, punching in the long string of numbers necessary to call home. She waited for the call to connect and then listened as it was redirected, piling as much loose change as she could into the machine.

"Granger and Granger Dental Practise, how can I help you?"

She drew in a long shuddering breath, trying to forestall the tears.

"Dr Granger." She whispered. "Please?"

"Hermione?" Linda, her parents receptionist paused to wait for an answer. When she didn't get one, she transferred the call.

"Dr Granger."

"Mum?"

There was a pause and then a long sigh.

"Hermione, sweetheart, are you okay?"

The tears Hermione had been fighting with spilled loose at the sound of her mothers concern.

For the next ten minutes, Emma Granger listened to her daughter sob down the phone line and made the appropriate noises.

Many things had faded since the war. Some of Hermione's scars had healed.

Many had not.

Unfortunately, as almost every journal the Granger parents had consulted, told them, memories took a lot longer than physical wounds to heal.

The first time Hermione had walked into the kitchen whilst her mother was chopping vegetables, every light in the house exploded and they'd found Hermione, ten minutes later, at the bottom of the garden having a panic attack.

They hadn't told anybody, just ushered her back inside the house and locked away every knife they could find.

She got better in a way, but these things took time and, from what Emma could make out, having a knife pulled on her, wasn't going to help.

"Hermione?" She called soothingly, waving her husband into her office. "Hermione, listen to me. Breath. In...Out...In...Out...Good girl, keep going."

Eventually Hermione breathing settled back into a regular pattern and Emma relaxed her grip on her husband's hand.

"I'm sorry." Was the first thing their daughter said.

Emma smiled ruefully.

"That's okay, darling. You're fine."

"I feel silly now. It's just a..." Hermione swallowed audibly and didn't finish her sentence.

"Listen, darling, why don't you come home?"

This time the sigh came from Hermione, and it was the long one they'd heard before. Years before, when Hermione had been explaining why she had to go into hiding with some secret organisation.

"I can't." She whispered. "I've got a job to do, apparently."

Emma clenched her eyes shut and ignored the sense of familiarity.

"Then, why don't you find a place to hole up for the night? Or go find a café or something? Give yourself some time and then go back." She waited until Hermione had mumbled an answer before she continued. "Now you call me every day, okay? Are you still coming back on Monday?"

"Yes, Mum." Hermione gave a half hearted laugh. "I promise. I'd better go. Love you."

"Love you too."

There was a click and their daughter was gone.

Daniel rubbed his hand across her shoulder and she leaned into his touch.

"We're losing her." She whispered. "Again."

* * *

Hermione followed her mother's advice. She'd apparated, in her panic, to the nearest town, which happened to be Sioux Falls. With what was left of her American currency, she bought herself a cup of tea and settled onto a chair in a tiny café. The last few days had been interesting, to say the least. Harry and Ron weren't going to believe...any of this.

They _wouldn't _believe any of this.

Hermione stared down into her mug and came to the horrible conclusion that she couldn't tell either of them what she was doing. Neither would understand, they'd think she was insane.

She laughed slightly.

She probably was insane.

Hermione reviewed the information in John Winchester's journal. Between the mildly neurotic rants about some demon with yellow eyes, there had been some genuine information. Most of which Hermione had already known. But still...demons were new.

* * *

She went back that afternoon, appearing on the side of the property. She walked through the wreckages of cars to the side of the house, watching it cautiously.

"Hey."

Sam jumped back into the nearest wall and waited until she lowered her wand before he relaxed.

"I'm sorry." She winced and slipped her wand in her pocket. "I don't deal well with being snuck up on."

Sam shrugged, more impressed than irritated.

"Just as well really. Better to attack than give away your position."

Hermione gave him a small smile and followed him into the house.

"I'm sorry about Bobby." Sam added, leading her into the living room. "It's just, he's a bit para..."

"I ain't paranoid!" Bobby snapped, stepping in front of them. "What's she doing back here?"

Hermione, Sam noticed, had drawn her wand. In fact he could only think of a handful of time she hadn't had it in her hands.

"She's here to train, aren't you?"

Very slowly Hermione nodded, not taking her eyes off Bobby. The older hunter grunted.

"You any good with ancient languages?"

Hermione's eyes sharpened.

"Which languages in particular?"

Bobby handed her a large tomb and Sam was impressed that she didn't stagger under it's weight.

"I've read this one." Hermione said, examining the cover. She rubbed her thumb over the letters and smiled slightly.

"Read it?" Bobby's eyes almost popped out. "That books so damn rare I don't know of another copy in the world."

"And I've read it." She flicked through the pages carefully. "Although this is a lovely copy, in the original Latin too."

Sam thought back to the book she'd given him in the car and smiled.

"Hey, Hermione. Do you have any other books in that bag of yours?"

* * *

"She came back?" Dean asked doubtfully.

Sam nodded, sipping at his beer.

"She's inside reading with Bobby. He's trying to find a book she hasn't already read."

"Sam, if she runs away from a knife every time she sees one..."

"She's the most sensible person we know?"

Dean glared at him.

"She can help us, Dean." He repeated. If his brother wasn't strong enough to win this, then he'd have to be and he knew she'd be valuable.

* * *

"What's the point of this?"

Hermione had her wand in her hand. She was down to her jeans and shirtsleeves, which she refused to roll up, despite Deans insistence it'd imped her movements. She was standing in front of Sam, both of them on the scrap of grass Bobby called a lawn.

"The point is, if you can get past Sam, you can get past a demon." Dean leaned against the fence. "Go on. Hit her."

Sam gave his brother the best bitchface he could manage.

"Dean, I'm not gonna hit her. She's a..."

Sam fell over.

Dean glanced from his brother, who'd somehow tripped over his own feet and the witch, with suspicion.

"Did you do that?"

Hermione shook her head and tried her best to look as innocent as possible.

It took three attempts, in which Sam tripped over a flower pot, a tussock of grass and his knees, before Dean worked it out.

"Wand." He snapped, holding his hand out. "Now!"

Hermione's eyes narrowed and she backed away.

"Don't even think about it, Winchester." She hissed.

"Dean," Sam called. "Just leave it. She's proved her point."

"Oh, no. You want to be a hunter, you give me the damn wand."

"_Stupify!_"

Dean couldn't move fast enough to dodge the beam of red light and he fell into a heap on the ground. Hermione met Sam's eyes cautiously, wand still raised. Sam shrugged.

"He was being a dick." He said, apparently unconcerned. "He's gonna wake up, right?"

She relaxed slightly and nodded.

"'k. How about I teach you to shoot? Just in case."

Hermione stepped over Dean carefully and they headed to Bobby's make shift shooting range.

"In case of what?"

Sam shrugged.

"In case you lose your wand in a fight. It's not like you can call it back to you from across the room, is it?" Hermione smiled slightly and said nothing. "Is it?"

"I can." She said quietly. "Wandless magic is more difficult than usual, but summoning charms are rather easy. Unlocking is fairly simple as well."

"Huh." Sam watched her slip her wand back into its holster and got out his gun. "Well, basics I suppose. Safety, very important..."

* * *

"How did this start?" She asked carefully.

Dean pretended not to hear her and went back to loading his gun. Sam looked down at his laptop and didn't answer, hiding behind his hair.

"I think I deserve to know." She added quietly.

"Do you?" Dean glared at her, irritated. "I don't think you deserve to know squat."

Hermione closed her book with a snap.

"Yes, actually, I do. If I'm going to fight this thing, I'd much rather know why I'm fighting it than go on blind faith and..."

"I sold my soul!" Dean yelled, getting to his feet. Sam leaned back against the wall and watched them. "I sold my soul to bring Sam back to life and then I went to hell."

Hermione watched him quietly, brown eyes more interested than accusing.

"And I broke the first seal." Dean slumped. "I started this."

Hermione said nothing for a moment. Then she got to her feet, stood toe to toe with Dean and said:

"Intentionally?"

Caught off guard, Dean glared at her.

"What?"

"Did you break the first seal _intentionally_?" She pressed.

"Does it matter?"

She snorted. "

"Of course it matters. You were in hell, I'm sure they've got their ways of making people do things that they don't want to do." Dean gaped at her. "So tell me, was it intentional?"

"No." He managed, still staring at her. "No, course not!"

"Well then." She went back to her book and ignored the incredulous looks the brothers were sending each other.

* * *

"Dude, since when do you knock?"

They were on a job a few hours away from Bobby's when the knock at the door came. Dean had opened it and had been shocked to see Castiel standing awkwardly on the doorstep of the motel.

The angel brushed past him into the room and Dean only just caught the grateful look Hermione shot him.

"I came to see if you'd had any more luck with the seals."

"Uh..no, but you nice hear from _heaven._" Dean's anger went straight over Castiel's head and he stared at Hermione. "Don't suppose you have any idea what the hell we're supposed to be doing down here?"

Castiel shrugged and glared at Sam, wrinkling his nose.

"This case is a waste of your time. How is her training going?"

The Winchesters looked at each other, before Dean threw up his hands.

"Fine, I guess. She already knew the basics."

Hermione offered the angel a small smile and went back to the files she'd been reading.

* * *

"Sam!"

Sam didn't look round in time and Hermione did the only thing she could think of, whipping her wand to the side and sending the taller hunter into the nearest wall, just as the retort from the gun sounded. Apparently, although Sam and Dean had done their best _not _to tell her about this, the other hunters didn't take kindly to the Winchesters, blaming them for everything. Dean punched the last one in the jaw as Hermione ran forward to check on Sam.

"I'm sorry!" She muttered, "I didn't mean to...urk!"

Hermione broke off, as Dean grabbed the collar of her shirt and hoisted her back, pining her against the wall.

"What the hell was that?"

She thrashed against his hold, kicking out. He knocked her wand from her hand and she went biserk, trying desperately to push his arm away from her throat.

"Dean!" Sam yelled.

"What did you do to my brother?" Dean snarled.

"Nothing." Dean frowned as he noticed her eyes really weren't focused on him. "I didn't take it. I didn't take it, I'm sorry!"

"Dean!" Sam yanked his brother back and Hermione slipped down the wall to land in a heap on the floor. "Listen to me."

He dragged Dean across the room and showed him the hole in the wall.

"That's..." Confused Dean glanced from his brother to the witch who was still curled in on herself. "What?"

"She pulled me out of the way." Sam stood next to the bullet hole. "At that height, it would've gone through my chest at the very least. She saved my life Dean and..." There was a crack and both brothers whipped around. "And...she's gone." He glared at Dean who had the decency to look somewhat guilty. "Again."

* * *

Hermione was sitting by the Impala, breathing deeply. Castiel stood next to her, glaring at any and everything. Even from ten paces away, Dean could see she was tear stained and shaking. Sam broke away from his brother to talk to her. Dean watched her brush his brother off, getting to her feet carefully. Castiel appeared at Dean's shoulder.

"Do not harm her." He snapped.

Dean sighed.

"I over reacted. I'm sorry."

Castiel's wings flared and he stepped between Dean and the Impala, blue eyes almost glowing.

"She is more important than you can _possibly_ know. Do not hurt her again!"

* * *

The week came to a close much faster than anyone, particularly Hermione, was expecting and she returned to work. As she sat in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at her desk, she couldn't help but wonder if it had all been a dream. In the hustle and bustle of the Ministry, the Winchesters didn't seem quite real.

She picked halfheartedly at the callouses on her fingers. Sam had insisted she take apart and reassemble every gun they had, until she could do it with her eyes shut. On top of the incredibly number of books she'd digested _and_ dodging Dean's attempts to send her packing, it had been rather exhausting. She was lucky in some respects. Both Winchester boys seemed to understand that her past wasn't something she wanted to talk about.

With a sigh she drew her large pile of paperwork towards her and inked her quill. There were the usual number of forms to be signed, several permits she intended to turn down and an interdepartmental memo from Ronald, who'd invited her out to lunch.

Hermione sighed as she thought of that one. If Ron even bothered to ask, which was unlikely, she'd be forced to lie and that _wasn't_ a very good way to start a fledgling relationship.

* * *

When she left work that day and apparated home to her flat, Hermione turned on the mobile Dean had insisted she buy. The technology really was a bit beyond her, but Hermione knew enough to check her messages.

"_Hey, Hermione! It's Sam. Listen we're heading to Iowa. Bobby found some signs of demon activity and we thought we'd better check it out. Cas knows where we are."_

For a second, Hermione considered deleting the message and turning her back on these people she didn't like and didn't trust.

And then she stopped indulging in fantasy, changed out of her robes, and prayed.

"Dear Castiel, I could use a lift."

Because what else could she really do?

* * *

_**Thank you to everyone who took the time to read the first chapter.  
I'm sorry about this. We've got a bit progress to go until we get to the real storyline. Next chapter, promise!**_

_**I was trying to show how Hermione, as strong as she is, is still recovering after the war. I'm not sure how successful I was. **_

_**Please let me know what you think. **_

_**Hood**_


	3. Whiskey and Nightmares

Typically Castiel would pick Hermione up from her flat and drop her where ever the Winchesters happened to be at the time. It had already caused several near misses in the Impala. Because of Hermione's working schedule, she stayed as long as she could with the brothers before she took a portkey home again, caught some form of sleep and then headed to work. She'd worked several cases with them now, but this one was testing her limits.

* * *

"Where is Sam anyway?" She snapped as they trekked through the undergrowth. It was hot, it was humid and there were insects which were almost as bad as the ones in Hogwarts greenhouses.

Dean grunted. The brothers were barely speaking at the moment and Hermione hadn't asked what was bothering them, sensing her interest was both unwanted and unhelpful.

"Damned if I know. Kinda given up on that front."

They were looking for the path. At some point, the ghost they'd been chasing had led them away from the path and into the wilderness. Hermione's _Point me_ charms were helping, but not much and they were both scratched, sweaty and grumpy. Not the best combination for two people who were one slur away from becoming enemies. Dean caught sight of black metal and broke into a run, Hermione sprinting to keep up. The thorns grabbed at them as they pushed through, tearing through exposed skin and drawing blood.

They leaned against the Impala and panted.

"Your hand..." Hermione reached out and grabbed Dean's right hand, holding tight as he tried to pull away. A long scratch cross the back of his palm, surprisingly deep for a thorn wound.

"Had worse." He muttered, looking genuinely surprised by the blood. "Hey, you're not one of those chicks who faints at the sight of blood, are you?"

"One of these days," Hermione murmured, pulling out her wand. "Someone's going to take those gender stereotypes and smack you about the head with them." She tapped the scratch with her wand and it sealed, healing instantly. She glanced up at him, a hint of a scowl hanging around her face. "And if you call me a chick again, I'll hurt you."

She put her wand away and Dean frowned.

"What about you?" He asked, glancing at her. "You're covered in scratches...why don't you..."

"Magic them better?" She supplied dryly. "I can't. Doesn't work that way."

"Says who?"

"Says the laws of Magical Energy Transference." She pointed out, sliding into the Impala. Dean glared at her as he made his way around the car. "I can't heal myself, because it takes energy from myself. It'd be like you eating your arm to keep from starving. Painful and pointless."

"Guess I'd better not shoot you again, huh?"

"It'd be appreciated." She murmured darkly.

* * *

"What are you wearing?"

Hermione glanced up from fastening her cloak. She didn't have time to head home to change, so she'd settled for the boys motel room, simply grateful she carried everything in her beaded bag.

"Work robes." She began to untangle her hair from the remnants of it's braid and the bind it into a bun. "Is that all right?"

Sam frowned and Dean just looked confused.

"How are you supposed to fight in them?"

She sighed, reaching for her wand to activate her portkey.

"I'm not. I'm supposed to sit and do my obscene amount of paperwork."

Dean shuddered and the scowled as Hermione vanished into thin air.

"And people think my job is dangerous."

* * *

Sam and Hermione became fast friends as the days went on. They had a lot in common; books, school etc. In fact, Dean was fairly sure she was Sam's first friend since he left college, which was kinda sad if you asked him. No matter Dean's reservations about the witch, listening to his brothers laughter was something he could get used to.

"What are you two doing?"

"Research."

"Studying."

Neither looked up from their books and Dean rolled his eyes, setting the bags of food down on a nearby table.

"Oh, yeah. Hi, I'm Dean Winchester. Watch me stop the Apocalypse with a classic car and two bookworms." He snarked.

"Shut up, Dean." They snapped in unison.

Dean shuddered.

"Damn, that's creepy."

* * *

"This is demeaning!" She hissed, hair sparking as she glared at Dean across the table.

Dean snickered into his beer.

"Nah, you look gorgeous. Just go over there and get us some answers."

Hermione clenched her jaw and squared her shoulders.

"I'm going to get you back for this." She promised, before she made her way over to the bar.

"It was Sam's idea." Dean called after her.

"She's gonna kill me, isn't she?" Sam mused as Hermione struck up a conversation with the nearest biker. They'd been following a newspaper report of a series of vicious mutilations. The last attack had stood out because it was witnessed by a group of bikers. Unfortunately they'd taken one look at Sam and Dean in their FBI suits and refused to talk.

"It's the best idea we had." Dean grimaced as one of the bikers slung an arm around Hermione shoulders. A nearby light bulb exploded. "Think I should go and rescue her?"

"Rescue them is more like it." Sam corrected.

He waited until Hermione made an obscene gesture behind her back before he nodded.

"Didn't even know she knew how to do that." He murmured to himself, as Dean helped Hermione extract herself from the throng of bikers.

"Find anything?" He asked, once Hermione was safely seated back at their table.

"Hush." Hermione whispered. Sam glanced over and saw that Hermione was muttering under her breath.

"What are you doing?" He demanded warily.

She grimaced.

"You really don't want to know."

Dean sighed.

"Hermione..."

"Experimental curse work was a hobby of mine in school." She slipped her wand back into its holster and grinned. "If they so much as think of treating a woman badly..." One of the bikers, specifically the one who'd put his arm around her made a run for the bathroom. "Oh. Only five seconds. Well, that's a disappointment." She returned their glares with an innocent look. "What? It'll wear off...eventually."

"Just tell us what you found." Dean groaned as a further two men made a break for it.

* * *

"Is there a reason Dean's shirt shrunk as he was interviewing that craft group full of middle aged house wives?"

Hermione stared at Sam balefully.

"I don't know. Is there a reason?"

Sam grinned.

"Like, maybe, I dunno, revenge?"

She looked down her nose at him, which was achievement considering he towered over her.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." She said instead. Sam chuckled and went back to his food, hoping his brother didn't make the same connection that he had.

* * *

The Winchesters weren't above making use of Hermione's magic. While she was a decent hunter, she was a better witch and the brothers came to the conclusion that they didn't mind her potion making, as long as she kept supplying them with Pepper-Up potions, which worked better than coffee, when you were wet and tired. In fact they got rather used to the presence of magic in their lives, all though the fright Sam got when he found Hermione lying on her back under the Impala, probably took years off his life.

"What are you doing!" he hissed, glancing around to make sure Dean wasn't anywhere within sight. She slid a book out for him to look at and he scanned the page quickly. "You're putting runes on Dean's car?"

Hermione shimmied out from under the Impala, grinning.

"Technically they're going on the fuel tank."

"Efficency, power..." Sam stared at her. "Are you making Dean's car more ecological?"

"No." She blurted and then blushed. "Well...yes. I figured it make him a bit happier if he didn't have to stop every hundred miles to fill up the petrol tank."

"Gas." Sam corrected, helping her to her feet. "I though your magic didn't like technology."

"It doesn't." Hermione rubbed at a streak of grim on her hand. "But I read the manual."

"So that's what you were doing with it."

"Mmm. Anyway, she's more mechanics than electronics. Mechanics I can work with easily."

"She?" Sam questioned, handing her a cloth for her hand.

Hermione laughed.

"It's like boys and their broomsticks. If Dean says she's a she, then she's a she."

Sam gaped at her.

"That's not a euphemism, is it?"

She looked disgusted.

"No. It's not. Grow up."

"You gonna tell Dean?"

She stared at him in horror.

"Do I look mad?" She yelled.

* * *

They never did tell Dean, but listening to his cooing that his baby was the most awesome car ever after she went a week without running dry, almost brought them to their knees with giggles.

* * *

"Hi Bobby."

Awkwardly, Hermione waved. The movement shifted the field bandage on her arm and a bead of blood ran down her arm and dripped from her finger onto the floor, leaving a stain on the rug.

"Right." Bobby sighed. "One of you idgits get the needle?"

Hermione grimaced as Bobby lifted the bottle of whiskey.

"You want somethin' to bite down on?" He offered, correctly reading her expression. The older hunter had gotten used to her presence and while he might not _like_ her, he dealt with her happily enough. Wordlessly Dean passed her a strip of leather and took the bottle. He cut the bandage off and paused.

"Ready?"

She nodded and he sluiced whiskey over the bloody hole. A werewolves claws had gotten too close and the four parallel slashes across her bicep were deep and painful. But not any whiskey and thread couldn't fix. Hermione shrieked, but didn't move away, the strip of leather falling into her lap.

"You utter bastard." She yelled, as the alcohol burned against her flesh.

Dean chuckled.

"Tell me what you really think, sweetheart." He passed her the bottle and smirked as she took a healthy swig.

"Make a hunter of you yet." Bobby grumbled, passing Dean the needle.

"Nerfherder." Hermione muttered.

Dean chuckled.

"You've seen Star Wars?" He asked, amused.

"Who hasn't seen Star Wars?" Hermione replied.

Dean kept up a steady stream of movie trivia as he sowed, until all four wounds were closed. He eyed the half empty bottle of alcohol critically.

"You gonna be okay?"

Hermione stared at him.

"I'm used to much stronger alcohol than that." She said and went to lie down on Bobby's sofa.

"Hasn't she got work in a few hours?" Sam whispered.

Dean eyed him incredulously.

"You wanna tell her that? Be my guest."

Sam, wisely, stayed silent.

* * *

"So how's work been?"

Hermione glanced up at Molly, dropping her fork with a clatter.

"Work?" She managed.

Arthur smiled at her benignly.

"Bullwinkle's department isn't it? How's it been treating you?"

She swallowed and managed a nervous smile.

"It's been good. My exams are in a few weeks."

Ron slung an arm across her shoulder and dropped a kiss on top of her head.

"She's gonna be great!" He enthused and didn't notice the smile drop off her face or the way she held her bruised ribs underneath her shirt. A ghoul had thrown her into a pillar the night before last and at least one rib was cracked. Not that Ronald needed to know that though.

* * *

Dean stumbled into his motel room and stared. Hermione, who appeared to have buried herself behind a wall of books didn't look up, instead just flicking her wand. A roll of parchment unrolled and hung itself in the air, an inch from Dean's nose.

_ASK SAM._

Scowling, Dean dug his phone out of his pocket and headed back outside. Something told him he really didn't want to disturb the witch right now.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?" His brother sounded distracted, which wasn't unusual. Sam had been distant from his brother since Dean had gotten back from Hell.

"Why the hell is 'Mione, in our room?"

"She's studying." Sam gave a cough, which was probably more of a laugh knowing his brother. "Apparently there was nowhere in the whole of Britain which was quiet enough and people kept disturbing her. So I figured we'd be out hunting most of the week so she could use our room."

"And you didn't ask me, why?"

"I knew you'd say no."

Dean hung up, silently cursing his little brother. He slipped back into the room as quietly as he could and watched her for a moment. She looked more tired than usual, large bruises under her eyes. Her shoulders were hunched over the books and, every so often, she'd stretch the hand that was writing out notes with a quill. She was squinting and Dean was fairly certain that if she got any closer to the text she was copying, her nose would brush the paper.

"How long have you been at this?" He demanded suddenly.

Hermione jumped, one hand reflexively going for her wand, the other slamming down on the ink bottle to stop it spilling. She relaxed slightly when she saw it was him.

"Um..."

"How long?" He repeated.

Hermione scrunched up her face, thinking.

"What day is it?" She asked carefully.

Dean's jaw dropped.

"Car. Now."

Her tired eyes lit with fire and she screwed the lid on the ink bottle as she turned to glare at him.

"I am not some child you can just order around and..." She broke off into a shriek as Dean wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her from the room. He carried her our to the parking lot and dropped her in the front seat of the car and then jogged back to get a pair of shoes for her.

Hermione glowered at him, tucking her bare feet under herself as they drove, Dean pulling into the first half decent diner he found. Reluctantly she tugged her boots on and trudged after him. Her interest visibly peaked when the smell of fresh coffee and fried bacon washed over them and she settled into the booth, leaning against the window.

"Do you need glasses?"

Hermione, who'd been holding the menu almost inches away from her eyes, glanced up and stared at him.

"I don't think so. I'm just tired."

Dean glared at her.

"You didn't have any lights on. Even I know that's a bad idea." He could vaguely remember lecturing Sam about it when they were younger.

She gave a listless shrug.

"I'm used to it. We didn't have lights at school, just torches and..."

"Like, burny flame torches?"

"Yes." She rolled her eyes. "The light was never very good. I used to have to study by wand light. Wasn't the best thing in the world."

They ordered and settled into an uneasy silence. Dean and Hermione weren't friends. They'd gotten to a stage where they could hunt at each other's backs without worrying, but they didn't know each other.

"So..." Dean sipped his coffee and cast around for a topic. "This exam's a big deal, huh?"

Hermione nodded, smiling gently.

"Yes. Technically speaking I shouldn't have been able to join the Department without it, but they gave me special leniency."

"How come?"

She shrugged, toying with her food.

"I have something of a reputation back home."

Dean snorted.

"What for?"

She gave him the barest of smiles.

"Nothing important."

She was lying but he let it be. There was an unspoken line with Hermione that even Sam hesitated to cross. Her past wasn't something they brought up easily.

"You got family back home?" He asked instead.

She nodded, chewing slowly.

"My parents." She coughed. "They're a bit upset about this, honestly, but they're being supportive which is the most I can ask."

"They don't mind that you might not come home one day?" he demanded hotly.

She glared at him and her hair began to charge with static.

"It's an idea they got used to a long time ago." She snapped.

Dean stared at her, shocked.

"When Cas said you'd been a soldier since you were a kid..."

Brown eyes narrowed.

"He wasn't lying. No."

Reading the danger in those eyes, he backed off.

"So you got any friends or is it just your parents?"

She snorted.

"I've got the Weasleys." She told him, looking somewhat embarrassed. "And Harry."

"Boyfriend?"

"Ronald."

Dean laughed.

"Your boyfriend is called Ronald?"

She sighed.

"Ron, for short."

"And what's he think about all this?"

"He doesn't know." Hermione murmured. "Maybe I'll tell him when this is all over, but he's got his own problems at the moment."

Dean subsided into silence and watched her eat with dark eyes.

* * *

Sam leapt out of his chair the moment Hermione appeared, ignoring the angel who vanished as soon as Hermione stepped clear of his trench coat.

"Well?"

Dean watched the pair of them, confused. Hermione nodded happily and Sam gave a whoop of joy, grabbing her up and hugging her tightly.

"Put her down, Sam!" Dean yelled, when he saw her start kicking out at Sam's knees. Sam blushed and set her back down on her feet carefully.

"We've got to celebrate!" He crowed.

Dean frowned at Hermione.

"What's he going on about?"

Hermione edged away from Sam, who was bordering on manic and shrugged.

"I passed my exams." She murmured, looking like she was trying to hide a smile. "I guess Sam's excited."

Dean glanced down at the pile of research and then up at her.

"This was going nowhere anyway. Grab your coat, Sammy!"

Between them they managed to urge an almost bouncing Sam out to the car.

* * *

"Is he always like this?" She whispered as Sam wandered off to get another round.

Dean watched his brother critically.

"He seems...high." She added cautiously. "It's almost..." She shook herself. "I'm imagining things." Dean was going ask what it was she was imagining, but Sam bounded back before he could and the question was lost.

* * *

Hermione was, at first, reluctant to spend nights in America, explaining that she had work to get to. But eventually when she trusted them enough not to kill her and she had time off, she'd nap on the sofa or in a chair. She point blank refused to chuck one of the boys out of their beds. It wasn't like there was a sofa big enough fit Sam, anyway. Dean argued that she could always magic up a bed, but she pointed out that that would bring up unnecessary questions if someone came in unexpectedly. Her sleeping patterns were strange as well. She was always the last person to bed and the first awake in the morning.

It wasn't until Dean woke up in the middle of the night that he found out why she didn't like to stay over. He'd gotten up to go to the bathroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. When he left, the bright light spilled across the room and he caught a flash of movement. Hermione was lying flat out on the sofa, her blankets in a crumpled heap on the floor. Her entire body was stretched taught, back arched as she screamed in silent agony. Fists clenched so tightly her knuckles were white and a face the very picture of pain that Dean knew so well.

"Dammit." Quickly he crossed the room, kneeling down next to her head. As soon as he bent over her to shake her awake sound filled his ears.

Surprised, he jerked backwards smacking into the coffee table. Hermione didn't wake, still screaming. Desperate now, he lunged forward grabbing her shoulders and ignoring the ear splitting howl of agony that filled his head. She jerked away as soon as he touched her skin and came up fighting. Dean dodged the weak punch she threw at him but wasn't fast enough to avoid the wand tip pressed to his throat. He hadn't even realised she'd had the damn thing on her.

There was a pause and then;

"Dean?" She whispered, voice horse and low from screaming.

"Yeah."

"Sorry." The wand vanished from his neck and they stared at each other in the half light coming from the bathroom. Hermione rubbed one hand across her eyes, swiping away tears. He sighed and settled next to her on the sofa. It was probably the first time they'd been left alone to talk in weeks. Well, as alone as they could be with Sam asleep across the room snoring like a drunken moose.

"What was that?" He asked gruffly.

"Nightmare." She whispered hollowly.

"No shit."

She glared at him.

"PTSD. Post Traumatic Stress..."

Dean sighed, leaning back against the sofa.

"I know what it is."

She shrugged.

"Or that's the diagnosis at least. It's just memories from the war. I'm used to it."

Dean looked her over taking in the deep shadows under her eyes and the pale tinge to her skin.

"When was the last time you slept?" He demanded angrily.

She avoided his eyes, tugging distractedly at a stray curl.

"Last night."

"You lie worse than Cas does."

"I'm not lying. I get about an hour or so of sleep," She shrugged. "Maybe more. Does it matter?"

"Does it...? Yeah, it matters. How the hell do you keep going? I'm serious." He added when she didn't answer. "You work all week, you're out here most nights...Why aren't you dead yet?"

Hermione chuckled mirthlessly.

"Life is a habit I haven't got around to giving up yet."

"It is too early for someone to be this morbid." Dean mumbled.

"Practise mostly. I've been functioning on low levels of sleep for years." She pushed the heavy fall of hair out of her face and a flash of red caught Dean's eye. She stiffened when he grabbed at her arm but didn't manage to pull away fast enough.

"What happened?" He asked quietly.

"Dean, it's just a scar." She tried to tug her forearm out of his grip, but he just glared at her.

"What happened?" He repeated.

"I got caught." Hermione murmured. Her voice became cold and empty.

He traced the jagged letters with the pad of his forefinger, not missing the way she refused to look at the word.

"_You_ got caught?" He said, dubiously. When Hermione did something, she did it well. Mistakes weren't something she made. It was one of the reasons Dean actually got on with her.

"It wasn't Harry's fault." She defended instantly. She pulled at her arm again and this time, Dean let her go. "He just forgot that he couldn't say the name."

"And you paid for it, right?"

She flinched, eyes glancing around the room.

"So that's why you hate knives so much?" After the first time, with Bobby, Dean had taken note of her aversion to them. She refused point blank to train with them, would go out of her way to avoid touching one. Even the table knife was eyed suspiciously. Sam and Dean adjusted, waiting until she'd left to sharpen their blades. Dean hadn't realised how much they'd adjusted their lives to fit around her until now.

"It brings up bad memories." She said simply.

"You wanna talk about it?" He asked awkwardly.

"You want to talk about Hell?" She retaliated, eyes flashing.

Dean grunted.

"Touché."

She lifted her legs up so she could wrap her arms around her knees, leaning her forehead against them and avoiding his gaze.

"You know, I used to be like Sam. Always trying to get Harry to talk about his feelings. Must have driven him crazy. But now...I don't want to talk about it. Ever."

Dean snorted and she glanced up.

"I know exactly how you feel." He murmured and then paused. "What does it mean?"

Her lips curled in disgust.

"Dirty blood. Those whose parents aren't magical, like mine, are considered lesser for it, by those whose magical heritage can be traced back generation. It doesn't make me any less of a witch." She added defensively.

"Never said it did." He frowned. "That's just..."

"Stupid?" she supplied bitterly. "Moronic, irritating, thick?"

"I was gonna say dumb, but yeah. Is this why they...?"

Hermione raised one eyebrow.

"Tortured me?" She offered. Dean winced, but nodded. "No. They..." She shuddered and drew in a deep breath. "...she wanted information." A glimmer of pride shone in her eyes. "I didn't tell her." she added triumphantly. "I didn't tell her. The...scar," She glanced at it as though disgusted by its very presence. "Is to remind me of my place. To remind me that I'm beneath everyone."

"Why hasn't it healed?"

Hermione coughed.

"Cursed blade." her hands shook slightly, until she clenched them into fists. "It'll never heal. Castiel tried...that's how I met him, you know?" Dean shook his head and she smiled sadly. "There's a reason I thought I was hallucinating. He healed the muscle damage, but the scar was beyond him."

They sat there for some time until eventually Dean pulled her legs across his lap and covered them both with the blanket.

"You were shivering." He explained, looking slightly embarrassed. "Can't Cas help though?"

"Help?" She asked blankly.

"With the nightmares?"

Hermione leaned back against the armrest.

"We don't all have personal angels who'll watch over us in our dreams." She teased.

Dean flushed.

"Get to sleep." He ordered.

She arched an eyebrow rebelliously.

"I figure you might sleep better with someone on lookout. Used to help Sam when he was little." He shrugged, looking somewhat embarrassed. "I'm not going to go back to sleep anyway."

Yawning, she nodded and leaned back, closing her eyes, one hand still clenched around her wand.

* * *

She awoke once more that night, but for the first time since the war it wasn't because of nightmares. Dean had fallen asleep and slumped to one side so his head was resting next to her shoulder, his feet dragging onto the floor. She smiled sleepily at the rumpled angel sitting by the window and closed her eyes again.

* * *

It became a routine. Whenever Dean caught her having a nightmare, and she made it very hard for him to catch, he'd sit up next to her and they'd go away again. Aside from the funny looks Sam shot him in the morning when he woke up to find Dean sitting next to her, no one really questioned it.

* * *

"Hey Hermione?"

Hermione leaned back against her sofa and contemplated the bottom of her sock.

"Dean." She said at last. "Where's Sam?"

She hadn't heard from either Winchester in a few days, they only called when they needed her and she'd been able to get several nights sleep without being dragged across the Atlantic.

"He's...around." Dean coughed. "I don't know if you can magic yourself over here without Cas, can you?"

"What's wrong with Castiel?" she asked doubtfully.

"It's a...long story."

* * *

_**A/N**_

_**And here we are at the storyline! Woohoo!**_

_**Thoughts? **_

_**Thanks to my reviewers, I'll have the next chapter up soon. **_

_**Unbeta'd as always,  
**_

_**Hood**_


	4. The Rapture

It was raining in America and Hermione walked quickly towards the motel room, wishing she'd thought to don her cloak. The illegal portkey she'd used had dropped her on the wrong side of town and she'd had a long walk through the drizzle. She knocked on the appropriate door number and it opened slowly.

She glanced between the gun and herself before she looked up at Dean. He was frowning more than usual and his shoulders were slumped as though someone or something had been weighing him down.

"Expecting trouble?" She asked calmly.

Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed her shoulder, dragging her into the room.

"Shut up." He snapped.

Hermione nodded to Sam before she let her eyes drift over the rooms only other occupant.

"You are not Castiel." She noted, removing her bag.

"Er...no." The man who wasn't Castiel got to his feet and held out a hand. "I'm Jimmy. Jimmy Novak."

"Hermione Granger."

Hermione shook the hand but stared at Dean, who returned her questioning look with one of his own.

"How did you know that wasn't Cas?"

She dropped into a chair and pulled her jumper over her head to wring out.

"Well, the fast food wrappers were something of a clue, but really it was the lack of wings that convinced me."

They all stared at her.

"You can see Cas' wings?" Dean asked loudly.

"Don't shout at me." She mumbled, tossing her jumper over the elderly radiator. "And yes. I've always been able to see them. I wasn't aware it was unusual. Sam, can I borrow one of your shirts, I'm going to freeze otherwise." Looking somewhat shell shocked, Sam tossed her a spare flannel shirt, which she pulled on over her vest. "So where is our angel?" She asked hopefully.

Dean sat down in the nearest chair and began tugging at his.

"Apparently Cas got called back to Heaven." He explained. "And everyone's after Jimmy here because he happens to be a vessel."

Hermione pursed her lips and kicked off her boots.

"Is there anything to eat?" She queried, looking around with interest. "Only I haven't eaten since this morning and I'm starving."

Sam tossed her a paper bag and went back to what he was doing, which seemed to be scowling at the wall. His hands were shaking, she noticed, and judging by the look in Dean's eyes, she wasn't the only one. Still, she accepted the lukewarm burger and began to eat quietly as Jimmy finally lost his temper.

"You can't go home!" Dean repeated for what had to be the thirteenth time. "They will find you and kill you and then they'll kill your family!"

"Do we know why Castiel left?" Hermione piped up, peering into the bag for the last stray French fries. One brown eye stared at the three men, the other hidden by greasy paper. "Only that might give us a better way of dealing with the situation."

"I don't know anything about Castiel!" Jimmy yelled. "I just wanna go home!"

"Are you sure?" Hermione smiled gently at Jimmy. "I'm assuming that's why I'm here."

Dean shrugged.

"Actually we kinda need you to keep him safe. We're trying to get him to Bobby's. Cas wanted to see me, but we don't know why and until we do, we don't want to let him out of our sight. But Sam thinks that the demons will do just about anything to get their hands on a vessel and after Cas," The hunter gave a long sigh. "You're the heaviest hitter we've got."

Hermione chuckled darkly.

"That has to be the nicest thing you've ever said to me." She murmured, crumpling the paper into a ball.

"How can she protect me..." Jimmy spluttered. "She's..."

"Got a really short temper." Hermione muttered, smiling dangerously. "And is operating on a very low amount of sleep."

Jimmy, wisely, shut up.

"Hang on," Sam frowned at her. "You thought we brought you here to get information out of him. What've you got some witchy power to read minds now?"

She stared at the tall man, a small frown resting between her eyebrows.

"Are you all right, Sam?" She asked gently. "You seem a bit..."

"I'm fine!" Sam snapped. "Can you help or not?"

The glare Hermione gave him was resentful but she turned back to Jimmy and made a visible effort to soften her expression.

"Would you mind if I had a look? It might give us some way to help you get back to your family."

Jimmy backed away from her.

"What are you gonna do?" He demanded.

"Just have a look." She settled next to him and stared into his eyes. "Just keep looking at me, don't blink, don't mind the wand. _Ligillimens!_"

Sam and Dean watched as Hermione stiffened, eyes never leaving Jimmy's.

"What's she doing?" Dean hissed but Sam shushed him. Thirty seconds later Jimmy keeled over backwards, unconscious and Hermione blinked very rapidly for a second before her eyes focused.

"I didn't mean to do that." She assured them. She looked swamped in Sam's shirt, but more confused than alarmed. "I've never practised on a muggle before. You'd think he'd be used to it." Hermione eyed them curiously. "His memories are strange, probably due to Castiel's presence. He honestly has no idea why Castiel left, or what he wanted. All I can get from his recent memories is...doubt."

"Jimmy's?" Sam pressed.

She glared at him.

"No. Castiel's." She got to her feet, shoving her boots on as she went. "Dean, I've got an idea, but I'm going to need an oak tree." She smiled winningly and hoped he didn't notice that her hands were shaking, or the sweat that had broken out across her forehead. "Can you drive me to one?"

"Uh." Hermione's smile increased in voltage until she was almost beaming. "Yeah, sure." Frowning, Dean grabbed his coat. "Keep an eye on him, Sam."

They headed out into the rain, ducking quickly into the Impala.

"So what's with the oak tree?" he asked when they were on the outskirts of town. The rain was lost behind the growl of the Impala.

Hermione slouched down in the front seat, leaning her cheek against the cold glass or the window.

"Dean, really? When have I ever needed something like that?" She sighed, tracing a rune in the condensation. "I was trying to get away from Sam."

Dean pulled the car to a stop at the side of the road.

"I thought you two were..."

"Open your eyes." She snapped, twisting around and glaring at him. "You know something is wrong with him, Dean. It's obvious! I can..." She buried her head in her hands and tried to get her breathing under control. "What are we going to do about the vessel?"

"He has a name." Dean grumbled.

"I know he has a name." Hermione drew in a deep breath and held it, before letting it out very slowly. "But if I use it," She told him quietly. "He becomes a person and I can't keep a person from their family."

Dean frowned at her.

"Are you okay?"

She gave a quiet laugh, which was tinged with more hysteria than she was willing to admit to.

"Does it matter?"

He grabbed her shoulder, turning her in her seat to face him.

"Yeah, it matters. What's wrong? You sleeping all right?"

Hermione glared at him.

"The world is ending around me, Winchester. I think I'm entitled to a little stress. Besides, things are a bit..." She thought back to the recent fight with Ron and winced. "_domestic_ at home and...Is there anything else I can do to help here?"

"Could you flash Jimmy...the vessel to Bobby's house?"

She considered it, tapping out equations on her knees as she chewed her lip. Very slowly she shook her head.

"Over that distance...with a passenger? I wouldn't like to attempt it." she decided. "Not if it wasn't critical."

Dean nodded grimly.

"Last resort then."

Hermione ducked out into the rain and snapped a branch off the nearest tree, before she whirled and sped back to the car.

"Is that an oak branch?" Dean asked, staring at it.

Hermione glared at him through the wet strands of hair that had plastered to her face and flicked the branch, showering him in water droplets.

"I am many things, Dean Winchester, but a botanist isn't one of them. Can we get back now? I'm worried about Sam."

They'd not been gone long, barely forty minutes, but when they got back Sam was nowhere to be found and Jimmy Novak was long gone.

* * *

"Come on, Dean!"

Hermione perched on the back of a chair and watched the younger Winchester yell at his brother. It had become a familiar scene recently. Dean stuffed the last of his things into his bag and swung it over his shoulder, chuckling.

"I'm sorry." Sam scowled. His shoulders were stiff and his jaw clenched. He looked like an angry man spoiling for a fight. Which was why Hermione was staying silent. At least until she was out of arms reach. "Is this funny to you?"

"Yeah, actually!" Hermione hopped off the chair and followed them out the motel room, shutting the door behind her. "Mr Big-Scary-Hunter, couldn't stop one man -who was unconscious- from escaping." Dean dropped his bag in the trunk and grinned. "Kinda, funny don't you think? Where were you anyway?"

Sam's eyes narrowed even as the corner of Dean's crinkled in a smile.

"I was getting a coke."

Hermione caught sight of Dean's expression for a second before it slipped back into easy humor. Dean knew he was being lied to and he _hated_ it.

"Was it a refreshing coke?" He quipped.

"Dean!"

Both Winchesters twisted in their seats to stare at her and Hermione glowered back. Better they were annoyed at her, than at each other.

"Is one of you going to tell me where we're going?" She hissed, certain her hair was sparking.

They pulled out onto the main road and Dean huffed.

"Pontiac, Illinois."

"Wonderful." Hermione murmured and got out paper and a pen to write a letter. "Just wonderful."

* * *

They drove in silence for a long while, Hermione sitting curled up in the back seat. Occasionally one of them would open their mouths to say something before thinking better of it and falling quiet again. The night was dark and there was little to see out the window.

It wasn't until she gave a shrill scream and Dean jerked the car to one side in shock, that they turned around to look at her.  
Hermione had an angel pinned against the other door, her wand trained on her neck.

"Uh, hey guys." Anna murmured, looking confused. "Who's this?"

"Hermione, breath." Dean ordered, stopping the car and twisting around in his seat to glare at them. "It's okay. We know her. She's an angel called Anna. Friend of Castiel's."

Very slowly, Hermione lowered her wand, but she didn't stop shaking.

"Guess we know why Cas started knocking." Sam muttered.

"You ever try calling ahead?" Dean snapped, pulling back onto the road. "Maybe not giving some of us seizures? That's Hermione, by the way. She doesn't deal very well with people zapping in, unannounced. Hermione, that's Anna."

Both women eyed each other curiously, but it was Anna who spoke first.

"You are not supposed to be here." She murmured, before she turned to Dean. "You let Jimmy get away?"

Dean snorted.

"Talk to Sam." He snapped.

The angel's eyes focused on Sam and Hermione got the feeling that whatever it was that was off about him, was just as obvious to the angel as it was to her. "You seem different."

Sam shrugged, dismissing it and the angel sighed, staring at Hermione this time. Disgruntled, Sam turned back to staring out the front window.

"You can see it too, can't you?" She whispered, so quietly no one else heard. "So did Jimmy tell you anything?" She asked, louder this time.

"Not a thing." Dean tapped the steering wheel in irritation. "Why? What's happening?"

"Castiel was dragged back to heaven." Anna winced. "Pretty literally, in fact."

"That's not good," Hermione murmured, "Is it?"

"No. It's..." Anna sighed. "He must have seriously pissed someone off. For them to do this to an angel as low as Castiel..."

"Cas said he had something to tell me, something important. Unfortunately he left, or was dragged back, before he could tell me. All we could get from Jimmy was doubt."

"Nothing else?" the Angel pressed eagerly.

"Hermione?"

Hermione shook her head, eyeing the angels wings. They were a light shade of brown, almost golden. Some of the feathers were singed and twisted. Anna caught her gaze and frowned.

"There was nothing else in Jimmy's head." she murmured, tucking her knees up and looking away. "I'm sorry."

Anna sighed.

"You're sure? Because whatever it was...it's huge!"

"We're sure!" Dean snapped, meeting Hermione's eyes in the rear view mirror. "We're only going after the guy because he's gonna get himself in trouble without us."

"You shouldn't have let him go in the first place." Anna shook her head sadly. "He's probably dead already."

Anna left shortly after that and they stopped at the next gas station, which allowed Hermione to get out of the car and start pacing.

"You okay?" Dean asked carefully.

Hermione shook herself visibly and nodded.

"Yeah. I just..."

"Don't deal well with angels flashing in. I get it." He held out a plastic cup filled with coffee. "Sam's inside making a call to someone, so you've got a few minutes."

She leaned against the side of the car and breathed in the steam, eyeing a nearby thicket.

"I wonder." she murmured and pushed off from the car, walking across the road. Dean followed her and together they stepped into the depths of the trees. Hermione reached into her sleeve and pulled out a letter holding it over her head.

"What are you..." Dean was interrupted by the dull hooting of an owl.

Triumphant, Hermione handed him her coffee and held out an arm, which the owl, a regal looking tawny, graciously accepted. Hermione tied the letter to it's leg, before she rummaged in her pocket and produced a handful of owl treats.

"The Ministry of Magic Post Office, England." She told it and received an affectionate peck for her troubles. The owl took off and Hermione took back her coffee from a stunned looking Dean.

"What?" She asked innocently.

"You can charm owls as well?"

Hermione chuckled.

"Is how we deliver letters. I needed to tell my head of department that I'd be working from home today. After that it's the weekend, so you've got me here till Monday at least."

Dean just stared at her until she started to look concerned.

"Missing angel is more important than paper work." She groaned, "Don't you dare let anyone know I said that."

"Yes, ma'am."

They piled back into the car, Sam-twitchy and irritated, Dean-worried and stressed and Hermione, curled up in the back seat muttering about "_b__loody Americans_."

* * *

They arrived just in time. The demons were already there and Dean drew the knife, ignoring the flinch from Hermione.

"Get the girl." He snapped and she nodded, vanishing from his sight line. Jimmy is wrestling with a demon on the floor and Dean sneaks up on the other, slicing across its throat.

"Hermione?" He yelled.

"Got her!" and he hears the faint crack that tells him she's been successful.

The fight is quick and brutal, and while Sam's malfunctioning physic powers are a problem they aren't the main issue. The Impala, no matter how awesome she is, can't carry six. Hermione's already done the counting and has Claire buckled in the back seat.

"Get them out of here." Her wand is out and she's more on guard that Dean has ever seen her and _now_ he understands how she might have won a war. Because there's a shadow in her eyes he knows all too well and a look on her face that he's seen before.

"Follow us." He yelled and put the car into gear, speeding off. Hermione doesn't wait a second and vanished in a crack of sound.

They stop in a car park and allow the Novak's some time together while Sam hotwires a car and Dean digs out his phone.

"Granger."

"Hey, it's Dean." He sighed heavily. "We're out by that multi-story on the outskirts of town. You know it?"

"I'll be right there."

Five minutes later and Hermione appeared around the side of a building and began striding towards him. Her hands are empty, which is unusual, because her wand is almost always nearby.

"What's happening?"

"Well, Sam's being a dick."

She smirked and leaned against the car.

"That's not new."

Dean frowned at her.

"This isn't right." He sighed. "We're taking this guy away from his family. Forever! How is that right?"

She shrugged, appearing unconcerned.

"I really couldn't tell you."

The car Sam was acquiring roared into life and time was up for the Novaks. Hermione slipped silently into the back seat of the Impala and a moment later Sam, Dean and the vessel, joined her.

* * *

They're four miles down the road when Sam's phone rings. It's an unknown number and he passes it to Jimmy. They're all tired, but Jimmy's face lights up when he accepts the phone.

"Amelia?"

There's a pause and then the colour drains from Jimmy's face and he hangs up.

"They've..." He choked. "They've got my family."

That's all it takes for Dean to slam on the breaks, perform an illegal u-turn and ask for an address.

* * *

"They're expecting you to come alone." Dean stated as they piled out of the car. "And that's exactly what you're gonna do."

"We'll work our way through the catwalks." Sam stared up at the factory, "We'll be right behind you."

"Stay calm and let us do our jobs. Between the three of us, we'll be fine."

Hermione snorted, accepting the knife Dean handed her.

"Stay calm!" Jimmy yelled. "This is my _family_ we're talking about."

"And they'll be fine." She gave him a shove. "Now go!"

The vessel stalked off.

"Gimmie a minute, okay?" he snapped over his shoulder.

They watched him leave and then made their way to the entrances. The demons jumped them almost immediately. Dean turned to Hermione who'd been in front of him and bellows;

"Run, Hermione!"

She either didn't hear him or didn't make it because she's dragged right behind him and Sam into the main room.

"You know what's funny?"

The demon wearing Amelia Novak, grins at them.

"I was actually bummed to get this detail. Retrieving an empty vessel, how dull."

"Yeah, yeah." Dean rolled his eyes. "You I get, soccer mom, but why'd you need Hermione?"

A rolling chuckling comes from behind them and the demon breaks rank.

"And I thought I was doing so well." She pouted, taking Ruby's knife from one of her allies. "I didn't have much to go on. I don't know what this little whore is, but she's locked herself away tighter than dad is in the cage."

Sam swore.

"We never got her a tattoo." He muttered angrily.

"Little late to complain now!" Dean responded.

"Enough." Amelia pulled a gun, a short ugly thing, from her pocket and grins. "Time for the punchline. Everybody dies." They were expecting the shot, but not the direction. Jimmy pressed his hands against his stomach, trying desperately to hold in his blood as he slumps to the floor. "Waste the orphan!"

One of the demons holding Sam heads for Claire, swinging an iron bar. Even Jimmy seems to hold his breath as the bar swing through the air, but Dean can feel the electricity in the room as the tiny girl stop it before it can make contact. When she slaps a tiny palm to the demon's forehead, Dean renews his struggles to get away, slamming a fist into his captors stomach. The man crumples and beside him he sees Sam struggling with two demons, one of which is still wearing Hermione. Sam manages to stab the first one with the knife, but then Dean's thrown against a nearby tank and forced to focus on his own problems. He's losing the fight until the angel creeps up behind him and smites the demon, leaving its meat suit with burning, empty eyes.

"Cas?"

The slight tilt of her head isn't really an answer, but it enough for Dean. Gasping he gets to his feet. One of the demons is crumpled by Sam's feet, a very telling knife wound in its thigh. The other, the one that used to be Hermione, is pinned, bloody, bleeding and screaming beneath Sam.

"Don't use the knife!" Dean bellowed as his mind struggles to work out why his brother had his head so close to her neck.

The younger Winchester straightens up, knife falling to his side. Instead he holds out his hand and clenches his fist, before turning away. The death of the demon who'd possessed Hermione was missed, because Dean was too busy staring at his brother in horror. Dean almost misses Amelia too, but Sam repeats his process and it's much faster than it's ever been before. For a moment, Dean just stares at him, until he shakes his head. Unable to look at his brother, he helps Amelia to her feet and then over to Jimmy whose pleading with Castiel.

Once the glowing lights have faded, the change is obvious and Castiel, now free of blood stains, brushes past them.

"Hey, wait up." The angel paused and Dean stepped towards him. "What were you gonna tell me?"

Castiel stared at him, blue eyes glowing in a way Jimmy never managed.

"I learned something while I was away. I serve Heaven, I don't serve man," Those blue eyes narrowed and his lip curled. "and I certainly don't serve you."

A tired moan brings Dean's attention back to the witch lying in a pool of her own blood by the corner.

"What about Hermione?" He yelled after the retreating angel. "You've got to heal her!"

Castiel's voice reverberates off the rusty machinery.

"It would be better for all concerned if she died." he spat, and vanished.

Dean drags himself away from where the angel was standing and follows his brother over to the witch. She's propped herself up against the wall, but the wound on her neck is deep and flowing sluggishly. She's shaking too, but it's not from shock. It's fear.

"'Mione?" Sam asked gently, crouching down before her. She met Dean's eyes over his shoulder and he nodded once and watched as she lifted the wand Sam hadn't seen.

"_Stupify._" She whispered and Sam toppled backwards.

Dean broke into a run, already stripping off his jacket to get at his check shirt.

"Hey!" Brown eyes meet his sluggishly and he tries very hard not see the teeth marks that came from his _brother_. She's lost a lot of blood, but it won't kill her. Not yet anyway. "You with me?"

"Yes." She managed.

Dean grabs her hand and presses it to her neck, keeping what used to be his shirt in place. He lifts her to her feet, making sure she's still got her wand. Claire and Amelia come forward to help hold her up but he waves them back. They are the next problem. Right now he has to try and get her out of here.

"Hermione, listen to me!" Something in her stiffens automatically, and he wonders where she learned to follow orders like that. "You need to get to Bobby's. Can you do that?"

She blinks, nodding.

"Singer." She spits out, glaring at him.

"Good." He stands back, letting her support her own weight and she sways, hand gripping tight to her wand. "GO!"

She twisted and vanished with a crack, leaving Dean with the civilians and an unconscious brother.

* * *

"Boy!"

Dean grimaced, keeping his eyes on the road. Whatever Hermione did to Sam, it's kept him under so far and Dean has no intention of stopping until he's reached Sioux Falls.

"Hey, Bobby."

Bobby sighed and the rush of static made Dean's ears hurt.

"You wanna tell me why that witch of yours is doing bleeding out on my carpet?"

Dean swallowed back the fear, drawing in a deep breath.

"She all right?" He rasped.

Bobby snorted.

"She's tougher than she looks. Took a hell of a beating though. You gonna tell me what happened?"

"She was possessed. Sam...took her down."

"And the teeth marks?" Bobby stated coldly. "I think I deserve to know if she's gonna turn into somethin' nasty."

For a second Dean closed his eyes, until the lights of the next approaching car makes him opened them again.

"She'll be fine, Bobby." He coughed. "Listen, I need you to get the panic room ready."

"What the hell for?"

_My brother._

_The demon blood junkie._

_A monster?_

"I'll...explain later."

* * *

_**A/N**_

_**Um? **_

_**I'll try and keep these updates frequent. Got to say though that your reviews really help keep me motivated. **_

_**Special thanks to:**_

_**Fangirl, Chris7100 (not telling), CountessCzan, meldz, punkyredhead and Anna Sela. **_

_**Out of interest, would anyone find it helpful if I posted update links on my tumblr? **_

_**Hood. **_


	5. When the Levee Breaks

"Whoah!"

Hermione collapsed to the floor, the combined blood loss and pain finally finishing her. The last thing she saw before the world faded to black, was Bobby Singer, staring at her in horror.

* * *

She woke up on the sofa. Her bag and wand had been left on the coffee table, next to a half empty bottle of whiskey and an eighteenth century treatise on vampires.

"You up?"

Rough hands reached out and lifted her so she was sitting upright, blinking in the daylight.

"Am now." She mumbled. A mug of coffee was held teasingly under her nose and Hermione stared at it groggily before she managed to convince her hands to work. Her neck was sore, but it felt like someone had put a bandage on it and so was her hip and her back and...well, everything was sore. Bobby waited until she'd sipped at the black liquid before he spoke, settling on the coffee table in front of her.

"I patched you up as best I could. You're lucky the bleedin' slowed down." He winced. "I wasn't sure if I could take you hospital. Different species an' all."

Hermione felt her neck gingerly.

"I'm not..." She yawned and her jaw cracked. "My parents are _dentists_." She mumbled, sipping at her coffee.

Bobby snorted.

"Whatever. You drink that. Dean'll be here in a few. Dunno where Sam is though."

Hermione inhaled her coffee and choked, coughing up scalding liquid as everything came rushing back. She set the mug down on the table and scowled.

"Sam?" she managed.

Bobby stared at her.

"Well, yeah. Kid's not in any trouble is he?"

Hermione heaved herself up from the sofa, catching Bobby's shoulder when she swayed too far forward. He didn't put out a hand to catch her, just let her right herself.

"You oughtta be careful. The cut on your hip was pretty bad."

Frowning to herself, she located the other bandage just above her hip bone. Somehow she couldn't remember where it had come from. Maybe all of her hadn't made it to South Dakota.

"Dunno what you did either. Chunk of skin is just _gone._"

Slowly, she picked up her bag, fumbling with the zip.

"I..." She shook her head to clear it, irritated when all that did was make her dizzy. "I need...dittany."

"No, you need food and lots of it." Bobby tossed her bag to the side and grabbed her elbow, steering her towards the kitchen. "Lot a blood you lost and those wounds are still open. I already changed the bandage on your neck twice."

Because standing was getting difficult and thinking rationally even more so, Hermione allowed herself to be pushed into a chair at the kitchen table and watched as Bobby pottered around the kitchen. She might have fallen asleep in her chair, because she blinked and suddenly there were two bacon sandwiches where previously there had been nothing but clutter.

"Eat." Hermione grunted and dimly wondered how she was going to explain _this _weeks set of injuries to her co-workers. Just as well Ron was on assignment in Devon...or was it Dubai? She was having trouble keeping up these days. It was at times like this she missed her best friends. They'd take her mind off things. When was the last time she'd seen them? Tuesday. For lunch. Harry was planning on moving in with Ginny when she left school. Which would be nice, she supposed.

"Eat!" Bobby snapped.

Hermione jerked and realised she'd been staring at her plate. Annoyed, she munched her way through both sandwiches and the glass of milk Bobby left at her elbow. She had a funny feeling he was mixing pancake batter in the large mixing bowl, (although it could have been an Albanian hair loss potion, they looked very similar) when a car parked outside. Bobby shoved her back down into the chair when she attempted to get up, so she summoned her wand from the other room.

"That panic room ready?" Dean snapped. She twisted in her seat and watched as he half-carried, half-dragged his brother down the stairs.

"Well, yeah. But I didn't think we were puttin' Sam in it!"

Their voices faded as the vanished into the cellar and Hermione flicked her wand, murmuring the incantation to summon her patronus. It took several attempts, it always did, but eventually the silver otter swam about her head.

"Go keep Sam company." She ordered, cheered by its presence.

There was a reason...

...a reason...

...not to do that...

"What the hell is that!"

Oh. That's what it was.

"Are you doing hoodoo in my kitchen?" Bobby snapped as he and Dean stormed up stairs.

"Nope." she lied as she hide the wand in her sleeve.

Dean frowned and dropped into the chair next to her. She smiled at him, which seemed to alarm him.

"Is she all right?" He asked Bobby, reaching out to grab her chin and tilting her head to the side so he could see her bandage.

"Bit loopy from the blood loss. She ain't dead, which is the main thing. One of you two idgits wanna tell me why we're locking up your little brother?"

"He's bigger than me." Hermione murmured to herself.

"Demon blood." Dean dragged a hand down his face, looking haggard and worn. "Those _physic _powers of his? That's where he was getting them from. I saw him drinking today and then he took down two demons like it was nothing."

Bobby sat down very slowly. Hermione sighed and his eyes jumped to her for a moment, before they slid to the white bandage on her neck.

"Those teeth marks..." He whispered, turning to Dean in horror. "Tell me he didn't?"

Dean opened his mouth to deny it and then realised he couldn't.

"She was possessed. Which made her blood, demon blood. He cut her neck and dug right in. How's that doing, by the way?"

"If it's stopped bleedin' fine. If it ain't...less fine."

"Dittany." She mumbled woozily, summoning her bag. Dean and Bobby flinched, but ignored her.

"Dean...if he's ganking demons, ain't that a good thing?"

Dean sighed.

"You didn't see him, Bobby. He's been edgy for days...shakes. Hermione's known somethings been off for a while, so did Anna..." Dean trailed off, looking at her as she rummaged around in her bag. "How _did_ you know something was wrong?"

"I could feel it." She glanced up and her eyes sharpened slightly. "With Castiel I can feel his power, that energy that makes him so deadly. I can feel it from other wizards or creatures. It's background awareness. It was the same with Sam. He didn't feel...normal. There was more power coming off him than should have been possible for a muggle. Ah ha." She held out a small glass bottle triumphantly and beamed at him. "Dittany." She announced.

"Why did you tell me?"

"I wasn't sure." Her bag fell to the floor with a thunk and she winced. "And I did tell you. Twice."

Dean groaned.

"I need to sleep." He muttered. "How longs he gonna be out for?"

"He's still unconscious?" Hermione blinked. "I might have over powered that spell a bit. Might. But not much longer." She yawned and slumped in her chair.

"You two head upstairs. You're no use to me dead tired. I wake you up when I need to."

Dean sighed and helped Hermione to her feet, slinging one arm around her waist to hold her up. Together they made it up the staircase to Bobby's spare room and Dean let her sit herself down on the side of the bed while he toed off his boots. The slight ripping noise brought his attention back to her and he caught her trying to peel away the field bandage. She tugged it off in one smooth jerk and handed him the bloody scrap of gauze. Unwilling to leave it lying around, he tossed it into the bin.

"Dittany." She held out the little bottle. "Three drops."

"This gonna hurt?" He asks cautiously, concentrating on not dropping the bottle to avoid looking at the bloody mess on the side of her neck.

"Mmm." She replied and tilted her head to the side.

He does as he's told and drips three drops of the potion onto her flesh. Immediately it begins to sizzle and hiss, steam rising from her skin. Hermione groaned and shuddered, audibly grinding her teeth. The blood is gone and the wound is suddenly days older, weeks even. It's clotted and he can see where the scar's going to be. A scar that looks disturbingly similar to human teeth.

"Other one." She murmured, leaning back on the bed. Hermione tugged up her shirt and showed him the other bandage just above her hips bone. The white contrasts horribly with the purple and yellow spider's web of bruises that cross her ribs and back. He removes the bandage this time and just stares.

"What the hell?" He glared at her, but as she had her eyes closed, the effect was lost. "Did Sam do this?"

The wound is clean, but that's probably due more Bobby's influence than anything else. It's a long cut that winds around her hip bone, but there are no edges to sow together. It's like someone scooped out her flesh with a melon baller.

"Caught it on something." She muttered, bracing herself. The Dittany stings but its not as bad as it was on her neck and now she's satisfied she'd not going to bleed out in the night...or day, she amends catching sight of a sunbeam.

Somehow she ends up, still covered in her own blood, lying on top of the blankets, Dean curled up next to her.

"What are we gonna do about Sammy?" She whisperd, almost afraid of breaking the silence.

"I don't know, 'Mione."

* * *

The yelling woke them barely four hours later. Hermione had one second to wonder how Dean's arm had gotten around her waist while she was asleep, before she was springing out of bed and following him down the staircase, socks sliding on the wood.

"DEAN!" Sam bellowed from beneath the house.

Bobby met them at the bottom of the stairs looking sheepish.

"He woke up," He managed grumpily.

Together they made their way down to the panic room. Hermione had been slightly alarmed the first time Bobby had dragged her down here, until she realised that he wanted her to add her own protections to it. Between the two of them, no one would be leaving any time soon, especially not Sam.

"You don't have to do this." Bobby pointed out.

"Yeah, I do." He slid back the panel, the clang of metal drawing Sam's attention almost immediately.

"Let me out!" Sam snapped. "This isn't funny any more."

"Damn straight." Dean clenched his jaw. Beyond him, Hermione could see that Sam was tense and sweating, shoulders hunched.

"Dean, this is crazy. Just let me out." Sam pleaded.

"No. Not until you're clean."

"Look I'm sorry I lied. Really, I am."

"Ain't the lying that's bothering me, Sammy." Dean snapped, leaning back on his heels. "I mean, I get it now. You couldn't help yourself."

"I'm not some junkie!" Sam protested, looking insulted.

"Oh, you'd better hope you are." Dean growled. "I mean, it's obvious really. There were the mood swings and the shakes and the long walks and phone calls."

"I'm not..." He protested, but Dean cut across him.

"You'd better be!" He stepped closer to the door. "Because if I find out you were thinking _rationally _when you sunk your teeth into the neck of the closest thing you've had to a best friend since college, I swear I will gut you here and now."

Sam paled and his eyes jumped to Hermione, standing further back along the hall.

"'Mione, I'm sorry...It's just...there was a demon and..."

"Sorry don't cover it." Dean snapped as Hermione back away. "Now, you're gonna stay in there until you've dried out, you hear me?"

"Dean, I need it." Sam threw his hands up. "It makes me stronger, strong enough to kill Lilith even. Or did you forget what we're supposed to be doing?"

"Stronger!" Hermione interrupted shrilly. "Sam, I can _feel_ it, even from here. And it's evil and it's parasitic. It's not making you stronger."

"She's right, you know." Dean reached for the handle. "So don't you worry about Lilith. Me and Hermione'll take care of it."

"Dean, you need me!"

"Nope. Congrats Sammy. You just bought yourself a bench warmer seat to the Apocalypse." He slammed the pannel shut, muffling Sam's words. "C'mon."

* * *

They ended up settled around the dinner table, Hermione handing out mugs of coffee because it was the only way she could think of to keep them out of the whiskey. Sam was still yelling, but at nothing in particular.

"Right, first things first," Dean turned to her. "How you doing?"

She settled onto a chair, drawing her legs up beneath her.

"I'm better. My head's clearer at least." She glanced down at herself, picking at one of the blood stains. "I'd kill for a shower though."

Dean grinned slightly.

"I meant about the demon. She said she couldn't get anything from you."

"Self-defence." Hermione chewed her lip and sighed. "Imagine if you took everything that was you and scrunched it up into a ball and then hid it. Not only would it take time to find, but if you scrunched it up properly, they'd have to get through layers of minutia, like food preferences and the endless pieces of information that you pick up in your life."

"So that's why she didn't use your wand?" Dean realised. "It was in the middle."

"Basically, yes. I couldn't...you can understand that a demon with that kind of power would be a very bad thing indeed."

Dean nodded.

"Next problem. Cas."

"I thought he was on our side." Bobby pointed out.

"He was and then..."

"He disobeyed."

Dean and Bobby stared at her.

"What?" She leaned forward, setting her mug down gently. "Think about it. An angel is a soldier and the biggest crime they can commit is disobedience. It's what caused Lucifer to fall in the first place. The only thing I could find of Castiel in Jimmy's mind was doubt, remember?" Bobby's face cleared and he nodded, evidently sense where she was going. "Imagine if the other angels found out. Anna said he had to have annoyed somebody important."

"So they drag 'im back to Heaven and the make him see things their way." Bobby scowled. "He might not have a choice any more."

Dean sighed, resting his forearms on the table and propping his chin on them.

"Yeah, right, fine, but why does he want you dead?"

"What?" Hermione yelped.

Dean winced and his expression softened minutely.

"Guess you didn't hear that part, huh?" She shook her head silently and Dean looked away. "I asked him to heal you and...he said it'd be better if you died."

She flinched and almost fell from her seat.

"That makes sense." She whispered, at last. "I...when I asked him. He said he was ordered, but he wouldn't say by who."

Dean frowned.

"Did he ever say what the prophecy of yours was about?"

Hermione's eyes met his and she took in the stress and weight bearing down on him. Dean was exhausted in body and in spirit.

_Dean Winchester must be saved._

"No." she lied, stiffening her resolve. "No, he didn't."

* * *

Dean and Bobby were still planning a way to kill Lilith, so Hermione took the opportunity to have a shower and change into fresh clothes. The blood washed out fairly quickly, but she stood under the spray for much longer, letting it soak up her tears and sooth the aches of her body. She couldn't tell Dean why she was here, not really. Heroes didn't take well to being saved. She'd learnt that one the hard way.

She dressed in a spare shirt that might have belonged to Dean at one point and her least battered pair of jeans. The cut on her side and neck burned, but they were healing, which was something at least. She downed one of the healing potions in her bag, nose wrinkling against the chalky taste. For a moment she considered whether or not to put on shoes before the reality hit her. She was going into war. Shoes didn't come into it. Hermione shoved on her dragon hide boots, a spell cleaning them of blood and tightening the laces around her calves. Next was her wand and she strapped the thigh holster she rarely wore around her leg, sliding her wand into place. Her hair was bound tightly into a braid and charmed to stay there, an anti-possession charm dropped around her neck, because never again was she being a demon puppet, and the small handgun that had been Sam's when he was younger, tucked into the waistband of her jeans.

She made her way downstairs slowly, ears growing used to Sam's screaming. Bobby nodded to her when she appeared in the doorway.

"Where's Dean?" She murmured.

"Idgit went outside to receive _revelation._" Bobby snarked. "We had a call from one of the hunters. The last seals are breakin' an' breakin' fast."

She nodded calmly.

"What can I do to help?"

"You can go and help Dean shout at the sky." Bobby pointed to the door. "Ain't no use being in here."

* * *

"What are you doing?" Dean barked when she finally found him amid the wreckage of cars and mountains of spare parts.

Hermione smiled grimly.

"I assume we're summoning an angel?" She asked, nudging at the dirt with her toe.

"Trying to."

She heaved a sigh and leaned against the nearest shell of a car, knowing her next question would be ill received.

"Are you okay?"

Dean didn't pause in his pacing.

"I'm fine."

"Dean..."

Wild green eyes met hers.

"I'm fine!" Dean snapped. "Or I will be if that asshole of an angel comes down here!" He yelled to the heavens.

"What do you need?" She asked coldly. "What will make this better, because Dean, I swear I'm floundering here."

Dean didn't answer and Hermione tipped her head back.

"Castiel," She whispered. "If you want to kill me, you know where I am."

She closed her eyes and ignored the flap of wings which heralded the arrival of the angel.

"She should not be here." Castiel growled. She could here Dean moving around but refused to open her eyes.

"Where the hell have you been?" Dean bellowed. "We've been shouting our heads off for you."

She could feel Castiel's annoyance. It spread across the air like static electricity.

"What do you want?" He demanded.

"Answers. What the hell happened in Illinois?"

"It is not of import."

"Not of..." Hermione opened her eyes just in time to see Dean step towards the angel. "Whatever you wanted to tell me was important enough to get you dragged back to heaven."

"Dean..." Castiel couldn't seem to look him in the eyes. "I can't." His blue eyes met Hermione's for a fraction of a second and she nodded in understanding. "Get to the real reason you called me. It's about Sam, isn't it?"

"He can do it, can't he?" Hermione murmured. "Kill Lilith?"

"Possibly, yes..."

"And the side effects?" Dean demanded. "How much would he have to drink to do it?"

Castiel sighed heavily.

"The amount of blood it would take...it would change him forever. Most likely he would become the next creature you would feel compelled to kill. There's no reason this would have to come to pass, Dean."

Hermione pushed away from the car.

"What do you want?" She hissed, stepping close to the angel. Castiel ignored her and spoke directly over her head to Dean.

"We believe it's you, Dean. Not your brother. The only question for us is whether you're willing to accept it."

"Dean, don't!" She pleaded, turning to face him.

"You are the one who will stop this. Not your brother, not some witch...you, Dean."

"If I do this," He shuddered. "Sammy doesn't have to?"

"If it gives you comfort to see it that way."

"Dean, listen to me." Hermione tugged on his sleeve, forcing him to look at her. "You don't have to do this."

"Yeah and if I don't who will? You? Bobby? Sammy?" His jaw clenched. "It's my damn job, Hermione! I'm the one who started all this off, I'm the one who'll end it." He glared at Castiel. "I'm in."

"You give yourself wholly over to the service of God and his angels?"

Dean met Hermione's eyes as she stood silent, begging with him.

"Yeah," He turned away. "Exactly."

"Say it." Castiel growled.

"I give myself, wholly to serve God and you guys."

Something in Castiel expression changed, from hope to resignation.

"You swear to follow his word and his will as swiftly and obediently as you did your own father's?"

Hermione stared at the angel surprised by the wording and blue eyes stared at her for a moment before returning to Dean.

"Yes, I swear. Now what?"

"Now, you wait." Castiel turned to Hermione "And you leave. This is not your fight, witch."

"Isn't it?" she murmured. "I think I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. I am following your orders, after all."

"Leave!" Castiel roared. Dean grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back, but she met the angel's gaze calmly.

"No."

Castiel nodded and vanished.

"Dean, we should head inside." Hermione led the way. "I don't think it's safe out here any more."

"Oh no, you don't." He jerked her around to face him. "What the hell was that about?"

"What?"

"Why doesn't Cas want you here?"

Hermione gave a choking laugh and slipped backwards out of his grip.

"I have orders which might not agree with Heavens plan. He knows this, he gave them to me. And no, I'm not going to tell you what they are."

Snarling, Dean followed her back into the house.

_Dean Winchester must be saved. _

* * *

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Bobby was leaning against his desk, arms folded across his chest. "But did you sign up to be the angels' bitch?"

"Nice wording." Hermione murmured from the sofa.

Irritated, Dean turned away from the doorway where he'd been torturing himself by listening to Sam's screaming.

"I'm sorry." Bobby pouted. "You prefer "sucker"?"

Dean clenched his jaw.

"After everything you said, now you trust them?"

"C'mon, gimmie a little credit..."

"Don't." Hermione piped up. "The credit goes to Castiel." They glared at her. "Oh, don't be ridiculous. They backed him into a corner and took all of the over protectiveness and pointed him towards one option, Bobby. He had no choice." A grim smile came across her face. "And neither did Castiel."

"What are you on about?" Bobby snapped.

"Loopholes. One in particular." Her eyes shifted to Dean's. "You promised to obey them as you would your own father."

"How does that help us?" Dean demanded.

"Can you honestly tell me, not once in your childhood did you rebel against your father? Not one late night out, disobeyed order, nothing?" Dean looked vaguely guilty and she smirked. "There's your loophole. You doubted your father, everyone does. You doubt him, you disobey him and you can disobey the angels. Castiel knew that. Call it his own private rebellion."

Dean stared at her in shock.

"Then he's not..."

"A cosmic douchebag?" She quoted. "No, he's not. Whatever Heaven's plans for you..." She trailed off.

"You hear that?" Dean muttered to Bobby.

"That's a little too much nothin'."

They almost ran down the stairs, their steps echoing of the walls in the silence. Sam was on the floor of the panic room, choking.

Hermione drew her wand as Dean reached for the handle.

"You think he's faking?"

Bobby frowned.

"You really think he would?"

"I think he'd do anything."

There was a loud clang as Sam flew through the air and his the side of the panic room.

"That ain't fakin'." Bobby snapped and wrenched the door open.

"Stand back!" Hermione shouted as Sam rolled across the walls as though they were the floor. "_Petrificus totallus_," Sam limbs snapped together and he flopped to the floor, body still twitching. "Get him on the bed." She ordered. Dean stared down at his brother in shock. "DEAN!"

"What?"

"Move him." Once Sam was safely on the bed, Hermione raised her wand again and lifted the jinx. "_Immobulus_." She added and thick chains sprung up around Sam, securing him tightly.

* * *

"Are we absolutely sure we're doing the right thing?"

Dean and Hermione glared at him, equally irritated.

"What?" Hermione snapped.

"It's killing him."

"It's a parasite." She hissed, sparks flying from the end of her wand. "It doesn't want to let go, but it will."

"If it's a parasite, what's it feedin' off?" He retaliated.

"His humanity." She murmured.

"And if it don't let go, what then!" Bobby cried.

"Then at least he dies human." Dean lashed out. "I won't give him demon blood, Bobby. I won't."

"Dean..."

"I would die for him in a second. Hell, I have! But I won't let him do this to himself. I can't. But I won't let my brother turn into a monster."

"You won't have to." Hermione murmured, standing by his shoulder. "We'll fix this, Dean."

* * *

Sam was gone the next morning. Dean had gotten up early and had found Bobby, unconscious, outside.

"How the hell did he get out?" Dean murmured, glancing around the room. There were broken demon traps and the handcuffs they'd exchanged Hermione's chains for, were unlocked and open.

"Ruby?" Bobby suggested.

Hermione looked to Dean in confusion.

"Sam's demon friend. The bitch has to be the one who started him on the blood. He said she'd been training her."

"If she's a demon, it wasn't her." Hermione pointed out.

"If she broke the Devil's traps..."

"She still had to get into the house." Hermione waved her hand around the room. "There are at least six other traps she had to bypass and none of them are broken."

"Maybe she's got the mojo?" Bobby suggested.

Dean snorted.

"Wouldn't peg her for the type."

"Or maybe," Hermione suggested. "It wasn't a demon. I helped ward this room, remember? Against spirits, demons, ghouls, _people_! The only thing it's not protected against is angels."

"Why would they set Sam free?"

"What difference does it make?" Bobby broke in. "How he got gone ain't as important as where he got gone to. It's not like we can track him. Kid's one of the best. If he don't wanna be found, he won't be."

Hermione coughed.

"Actually," She promised. "I think he can."

* * *

"I thought you didn't do blood? Wrong kind of witch, an all?" Dean grumbled.

Hermione glared at him and, gingerly, passed him a closed penknife.

"When I'm try to use a location spell to find someone and I only have his _brother _on hand, then yes. I need blood. Some of his genetic material would work better, but we're improvising. Enough to fill the saucer, please."

Scowling, Dean sliced open his arm and clenched his fist, dripping blood onto the china saucer.

"Why the hell are you carrying a cat plate around anyway?"

Hermione watched, smirking, as the grotesque kitten vanished under the red liquid.

"Sentimental value." She murmured, healing his arm. "Ready?"

Dean nodded and she lowered her wand so it balanced of the rim of the saucer, just touching the blood.

"_Point me_." She whispered and the vine wood wand rotated smoothly, pointing east. "That way."

Looking worried, Dean put the car into gear and headed in the direction she told him. They stopped every so often to correct their direction and drove on through the night, neither one risking sleep. Eventually the reached a town and then a street and finally a hotel.

"Dean," Hermione reached out to grip his elbow. She'd banished his blood instead of risking someone else getting their hands on it and her wand was safely holstered at her thigh. "You're going in their to reason with him."

"What are you? My conscience?"

"Listen to me," She snapped, tugging him down to her level. "I'll deal with Ruby. You bring your brother home. Don't lose your temper." She warned.

They headed straight for the honeymoon suite, waiting until Sam left before entering. Hermione unlocked the door with a flick of her wrist and Dean drew the knife, creeping up on Ruby. The demoness turned at the last moment, catching the blade on her arm, where it sliced uselessly through her leather jacket. Hermione stayed back as Dean wrestled with her, waiting until he had her pinned before she raised her wand. Sam burst into the room, pushing her aside and grabbing Dean's elbow before he could stab Ruby.

"Dean, please..." He pushed Ruby behind him, keeping her well away from Hermione and his brother. "Look, can we talk about this?"

"Soon as she's dead we can talk all you want."

Sam sighed.

"Ruby, get out of here."

The demon didn't wait to hear Dean's protest, running from the room.

"Hermione!"

Hermione spun on her heel and apparated to the corridor outside, directly in front of the demon. Ruby slid to a stop in front of her.

"What the hell are you?" She spat, shocked.

Hermione raised her wand, surprised to find her hand steady.

"Really not interested in talking." She hissed. "_Immobulus!_" She snapped. Ruby dodged the chains and lashed out, catching Hermione in the shoulder with her fist and knocking her against her wall. Hermione flicked her wand and sent the demoness through the window at the end of the hall. Winded, she pushed herself to her feet, jogging along the hall. Ruby stared up at her from the alleyway, dazed and Hermione appeared by her side. Ruby grabbed at her ankles, dragging her down to the floor before she pounced on her, punching her hard in the side of the face. Hermione managed to block the second punch, grabbing her fist and twisting beneath her and leaping to her feet. She kicked, one booted foot catching Ruby in the face and sending her sprawling backwards. The demoness scrambled to her feet, backing away towards the dead end.

"You're just using him, aren't you?" Hermione murmured. "_Sectumsempra_!" She slashed with her wand and Ruby screamed as lines of red blossomed across her shirt. "_Bombarda_!" This spell missed, but hit the side of the building and showered her in masonry. "_Petrificus Totallus_." This time she hit her dead on and Ruby took the only option left to her. Black smoke poured from between clenched teeth and Hermione watched helpless as the demon escaped. She dropped to her knees and checked for a pulse, but whoever had been playing host to Ruby was long gone. Hermione gave a long sigh and glamoured the body, hiding it. It wouldn't do for someone to accuse her of murder. She glanced up to the remnants of the window, and heard a door slam.

"Oh no." She whispered and apparated back up to the honeymoon suite.

Dean was sprawled in the wreckage of furniture, battered and, more importantly, alone.

"Dean!" She yelped, lunging forward. She turned him over slowly and breathed out when his eyes opened. "Where's Sam?" she asked gently.

Dean shrugged her off and got to his feet, staggering.

"What happened?" She demanded, staring at him. "Dean!"

He ignored her and headed for the door, but she caught the remnants of tears of his face and grew even more alarmed.

"Dean!" She pleaded. "What did you do?"

* * *

_**A/N**_

_**The Apocalypse is coming! That sounds cheesy. **_

_**Still, next chapter up tomorrow. **_

_**Special thanks to:**_

_**Fangirl (that's not creepy at all:)), sakiy (I got it), Chris1700, artemisgirl(You'd regret it. Don't!), punkyredhead (You're very concerned with her job. The world is ending!) **_

_**Also is this the point where everyone gave up on Supernatural. **_

_**Also also, by popular request (i.e 2) I'll start putting links up on my tumblr. I'll tag it with "marionhood" and my url's on my author page. **_

_**Please review, means a lot.**_

_**Hood. **_


	6. Lucifer Rising

"Dean."

"Dean!"

"Oh, let him wallow." Hermione snapped. She was furious, irritated and exhausted and Dean wouldn't stop _staring_ out the bloody window. The ride back to Bobby's had been silent, mainly because Hermione had already yelled everything she had to say at him in the ruined hotel room, but also because Dean had too busy sulking. Bobby stared between the pair of them, having just repeated everything she'd said, but without the shouting or the setting fire to the curtains.

"I'm not calling him." Dean repeated.

"I can't listen to this again." Hermione muttered and got to her feet.

"Where're you going?" Bobby called.

"Away from him!" She snapped and stormed out. Hermione settled on the steps leading up to Bobby's house and immediately began to feel ashamed. She was acting like a child. Dimly, she could hear the hunters arguing, but she tuned them out as she pulled out her phone, turning it on.

There weren't many numbers in her contacts list. Sam and Dean's obviously. Bobby had been added recently but she'd never used it and, since the Ministry had decided to approve muggle technology for its Auror Corps, Harry.

"Hermione?"

She laughed, tracing the worn knee of her jeans.

"Most people answer their phones with their name, or hello."

"Hello, Hermione."

She leaned back against the steps smiling gently.

"Hey, Harry. How're you?"

"I'm good, just in the garden for the day."

She hummed.

"How's the project going?"

Harry's on going struggle with the garden of Grimmauld Place was a cause of continuing hilarity for his friends. All the dark magic that had collected in the house meant that growing anything that wasn't..._malevolent_ was difficult. As a result Harry was in the middle of an on going war against evil shrubbery.

"Well, my petunia's died." He chuckled. "Which is just as well, I suppose. They reminded me of my Aunt. The lilies you got me for my birthday are doing okay though. One's turned blue though, I'm not sure what that means."

"And the pests?"

Harry snorted.

"The gnomes are gone, for now at least. The latest problem is the pixies who've taken up residence in a bush and the bowtruckle who refuses to leave the Rhododendron, which I swear someone must have cursed because it's the only thing that won't die." He coughed. "And Luna says I have the worst infestation of Nargles she's ever seen."

"Oh." Hermione said, because there wasn't much else to say to that.

"Yeah. But she gave me a cutting of her Dirigible Plums, so that's something. Knowing her, it'll the only thing that'll grow here."

Hermione chuckled, settling back into the easy friendship she and Harry had shared since they were children.

"And what will you do with a garden full off Dirigible Plums?" She inquired teasingly.

"Make jam?" he offered.

"Harry Potter, you've never made jam in your life."

"I can learn." He protested. "Can't be any harder than potion making."

Hermione chewed her lip, letting her silence speak for her.

"Hey! I wasn't that bad!"

"Of course not." She murmured.

"How're you and Ron doing anyway? He's been so busy lately..."

"We get by." She told him quietly. "Listen, Harry..."

"HERMIONE!"

Her head whipped around.

"Who was that?" Harry demanded.

"GET IN HERE, GIRL!"

"I've got to go, Harry. Love you." She added, before she hung up. She sprinted into the house, almost tripping up on the rug in the hall. "What's wrong?"

Bobby waved his hands around the otherwise empty room.

"See anything missing?" He offered.

"Where's Dean?" She breathed, catching on immediately.

"Damned if I know. He just vanished. You think..."

"The angels?" She shrugged helplessly. "Has to be. No one else has the power." She noticed the large pile of papers which had swept off the desk. "Is everything all right, Bobby?"

"That boy is damned stubborn."

Hermione agreed with him but didn't think such an opinion would be of use at the moment.

"What do we do now?" She asked, completely at a loss.

"I don't know. Go after Sam?"

Hermione looked down at her mobile.

"We could just try calling them?"

* * *

She tried Dean first.

"_Hi, this is Dean Winchester. I can't come to phone right now, so don't bother calling back."_

Whatever the angels were doing with him, letting him answer his phone evidently wasn't it.

The phone rang six times before Sam answered.

"Yeah?"

He sounded tired and resigned, and Hermione's hopes crumpled at the sound of his voice.

"It's Hermione."

"I got that. You gonna yell at me too? Tell me I'm a monster? Cos, I already got the message from Dean an' I don't really want to hear it twice."

"What?" Hermione met Bobby's eyes across the room and winced. "No. I'm worried about you. Where are you? I want to help." she pleaded.

"Kill Lilith?"

"No, Sam. Help you."

He gave a dark laugh.

"It's a bit late for that. Ruby told me what you did."

"She got a new meat suit then." Hermione's face twisted in disgust. "She's using you, Sam."

"I've heard. I've got to do this, 'Mione."

She sighed.

"Sam, please..."

"Why the hell do you care anyway?" Sam snapped angrily.

"I care because I'm your friend." She groaned. "I'll see you soon, Sam." She promised and hung up, turning to Bobby. She slipped her bag over her head and then reached for the gun she'd discarded on a nearby table. "Sam's going after Lilith." Hermione tucked it into the back of her jeans before she summoned her wand.

"An' you?" Bobby demanded. "Where are you going?"

"After Sam." She told him, as though it was obvious. "I've got no chance of following Dean, the angels will have him hidden from me. But if I can find Sam, then maybe I can stop him from doing something terrible."

"All on your own?" Bobby stared at her. "You ain't gonna stand a chance against them. You're just a girl."

Hermione winced.

"Thank you for that vote of confidence." She snipped, because sarcasm was easier than fear. "One woman army." She grinned at him and hoped he couldn't tell how terrified she was. "I'll be in touch."

"Wait!" Bobby grabbed at her elbow. "Those orders of yours. What are they?"

Hermione took a step back, the now familiar mantra filling her head.

_Dean Winchester must be saved_.

"Not important right now." She spun on her heel and vanished.

* * *

The room was probably the most opulent that Dean had ever been in, which would have been fine if he was _stuck_ here. Zachariah had already been and given him the "_You will obey, you worthless snivelling piece of shit_" speech, with a scared looking Castiel standing behind him. The fact that Castiel wouldn't meet his eyes told him that Hermione was probably right about him being unwilling, but as Castiel wasn't here, he couldn't confirm it. He'd given in and finally called Sam, but all he'd gotten was his voice mail. He'd left a message, but whether Sam bothered to actually listen to it was another matter entirely. At this point smashing things was starting to look like a really fun idea. With the thought in mind, Dean toppled the nearest statuette which shattered satisfyingly on the ground and almost covered the sound of wings.

"You asked to see me?" Castiel murmured, looking perplexed at the porcelain fragments littering the floor. Somewhat embarrassed, Dean shifted to block them from view.

"Uh, yeah." He grimaced. "Listen, I need something."

"Anything you wish."

"I need you to take me to see Sam."

Dean could almost see the "_anything but that_" written across the angels face.

"Why?" Castiel asked.

"I need to talk to him."

"About?"

Dean scowled.

"Does it matter? Can I go or not?"

Castiel looked away and Dean got the feeling he was looking for others eyes in the room, rather than avoiding Dean.

"I don't think that's wise."

Dean gritted his teeth.

"I didn't ask for your opinion." He told him, as calmly as he could manage.

"Have you forgotten what happened the last time you met?"

"No. That's the point. Look, I just need five minutes to talk to him. That's all and then I'll do whatever you want."

"No." Dean drew up short, even though he'd been expecting the answer.

"Why not? You're trapping me here?"

"You may go where ever you wish..."

"Super, I wanna see Sam."

"Except there."

"I wanna talk a walk."

"Fine, I'll go with you."

Dean was starting to see a pattern here.

"You know what," He snapped. "I'm out of here." He headed for the exit.

"Through what door?"

He turned back to look at the angel and in the time he did so, the door vanished replaced with more white and gold paneling. He broke into an easy smile.

"So, I _am_ a prisoner. Glad we sorted that out." He turned to yell at Castiel but the angel had vanished, leaving him alone and trapped. "Damn it."

* * *

There wasn't a way out. Any attempt to break through the walls was useless, because the damn things healed themselves.

"Son of a bitch." he muttered.

"Quit hurling feces like a howler monkey." Zachariah scolded from behind him. "It's unbecoming."

"Let me out!" Dean snarled, pacing.

"It's too dangerous out there..."

Dean cut across him.

"Yeah, right. Like that's ever bothered you before. You're lying. Hermione was right, I should never have trusted you guys." Something occurred to him, something she'd said to him recently. "No demon could have gotten into that panic room, let alone opened the door. The only thing it wasn't warded against was..."

"Angels." Zachariah finished. "I'll admit you're smarter than we gave you credit for. Do you get it now, Dean?"

The hunter paled.

"You don't want to stop the Apocalypse." He gasped. "Do you?"

"Nope." The angel grinned and Dean resisted the urge to smash his face in with a lamp. "Never did."

"So what? You had us running around, trying to stop Lilith breaking seals for what? Fun?"

"We couldn't tell the seraphs the big plan so it gave them something to focus on." He snorted. "Imagine if we told them everything. We'd have a full scale rebellion on our hands. That's what got us into this mess in the first place."

"But why?" Dean managed. "What do you get out of the end of the world?"

"It's not the end of the world." Zachariah grinned. "It's our big fight and we like our chances, let me tell you. When our side wins, and lets face it, we will, it's paradise on earth. Who doesn't want that?"

"How many?" Dean demanded.

"How many what?"

Dean felt sick.

"How many humans die because of this?"

The angel shrugged.

"Hundreds, thousands, millions. Does it matter? In the end it'll all be worth it."

"What about Sam?"

"Sam..." He drew the name out like he was examining it. "..has a part to play. I won't lie about that. A very important one, in fact. We'll make sure he does his job."

"What does that mean?" Dean stepped forward. "What are you gonna do to him?"

"Sam, Sam, Sam." The angel rolled his eyes. "Forget about him. You have bigger problems. Why do you think I'm confiding in you?"

"You're a homicidal manic?" Dean snarled.

"Don't be silly. You're still important. We weren't lying about your destiny."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. You're just not going to stop Lilith or the Apocalypse." He paused for effect. "It's Lucifer." He gestured to the painting in front of him, where a winged angel, pinned a beast to the floor, had his sword raised in triumph above his head ready to strike down. "You're going to stop Lucifer." He began to walk away. "Believe me, we'll look back on this one day and laugh. Oh, and if you think that little sorceress of yours is going to stop us, think again. We've got plans in place for her."

He vanished before Dean could say another word.

* * *

It took time to find Sam, especially as she didn't have Dean with her. It took hours in fact, but eventually she found herself outside a sprawling stone building in the middle of the night. It looked like a manse she'd seen once in England, but instead of crawling ivy, it was covered in boarded up windows and dirt. A yellow and black car was parked outside and her wand pointed straight ahead.

"Right then."

For a second thunder rumbled across the cloudless sky and Hermione stumbled backwards. Where before her path had been clear, it was now blocked by four people. Or angels, as the wings sprouting from their backs told her.

"You may not enter." One intoned. Hermione drew her wand.

"Are you going to try and stop me?" She demanded.

"If we have to."

She nodded to herself.

"Right then." She repeated.

* * *

Dean was grabbed from behind and pinned to the wall. Confused, he glared down at Castiel who waited until he was sure he wouldn't scream before releasing him. Dean watched as the angel sliced his arm open with Ruby's knife, unsure as to when the angel had gotten his hands on that particular weapon, and began smearing his blood on the wall. Vaguely he recognised the symbol Anna had used to banish the angels.

"Castiel," Zachariah appeared from nowhere, "Would you mind explaining just what the hell you're doing?"

Castiel didn't answer, instead slamming his bloody hand into the centre of the sidgil. Zachariah was thrown from the room in a flash of light.

"He won't be gone long." The blood dried on the angel immediately. "We have to find Sam."

"Where is he?" Dean asked, wide eyed.

"I don't know. But I know someone who will." Carefully, Dean accepted the knife, tucking it away. "We have to stop him. From killing Lilith."

"I thought Lilith was gonna break the final seal."

"Lilith _is _the final seal!" The angel yelled. "She dies and the end begins."

* * *

Hermione wasn't winning, she knew that. She managed to avoid the angels so far, but she was cut and bleeding, her wand arm trembled and she was running perilously close to exhaustion. Her gun was long since empty of bullets, which had done nothing to stop them and she was no closer to the entrance than she had been twenty minutes ago. Hermione got the feeling that the warriors of God were toying with her. She suspected she was only alive because they wanted her to be.

"_Expelliarmus_!" she bellowed and an angel blade came sailing towards her. She caught it in her left hand and used it to swipe out at the angel closest to her, relishing in the fact that the fear that so usually crippled her, wasn't present. Possibly because she couldn't get any more scared than she already was. She caught his arm and blue light seeped out from the wound. They all stilled and Hermione looked from the angels to the blade and grinned. Not out of joy but from sheer desperation. If she was going to die, she'd die like a Gryffindor.

In a glorious blaze of stupidity.

* * *

The Prophet of the Lord was ordering call girls when Dean and Castiel arrived.

"I'm gonna have to call you back." He hung up, staring at them in horror. "You shouldn't be here!"

"We need to know where Sam is." Dean barked. "Now, Chuck!"

Blinking rapidly, he shuffled through his latest draft until he found the address.

"St Mary's." Dean glanced up at him. "What is that? A convent?"

"Yeah." he threw up his hands. "But you aren't supposed to be there. _She_ isn't supposed to be there."

"She?" Dean demanded.

"Hermione." Chuck groaned. "She turn up a few weeks ago and now she's gone after Sam. I had to rewrite the entire chapter because of her. My point is, this isn't your story."

Castiel frowned.

"Yeah, well, we're making it up as we go."

Dean glanced at him in disbelief, as Chuck groaned clutching his head.

"STOP CHANGING THE PLOT!" he yelled, before the room began to shake. "Oh, not again!"

Items fell from their shelves and the lights flickered repeatedly.

"It's the Archangel." Castiel shouted over the cacophony. "I'll hold them off." He lifted his hand to Dean's forehead. "Just stop Sam."

* * *

Dean appeared in a vaulted hallway lined with dripping candles and dust. He followed the sounds until he saw Sam and Ruby through a doorway. Ruby, in her newest meat suit, slammed the door in his face. He could hear a woman screaming and he pounded against the door.

"Sam!"

For a second Lilith's screaming stopped, before it was replaced with Ruby screaming encouragement. Shouting at the top of his lungs, Dean could only listen as Lilith died screaming. It didn't stop him attempting to break the door down with his bare hands though and when he finally got it open, the sight that greeted him was the last one he'd wanted to see. Lilith, crumbled in a heap, dead, her blood pooling across the floor in a way that wasn't natural. Ruby, alive and gloating as she taunted Sam, and his little brother, staring at him in shock and horror as what he'd done finally sank in.

"You're too late." She taunted as Dean advanced, drawing the knife.

"I don't care." He snarled. Sam moved faster than he'd expected, seizing her arms and holding her still long enough for Dean to plunge the knife into her heart. She dropped to the floor, her latest meat suit bloody and empty.

Slowly, he met his brothers eyes and he wanted to be angry. Hell, he was angry, but he'd never seen Sam look so broken.

"I'm sorry." He pleaded.

Dean didn't get a chance to say what he wanted to say because at that moment the floor split open, a beacon of light piercing the marble. It grew wider and brighter, and Dean grabbed Sam's shirt and pulled.

"Come on, Sammy." He begged, "Lets go."

"Dean..." Sam didn't take his eyes away from the light. "He's coming."

The light grew brighter and brighter until Dean thought he'd gone blind and the world had turned to white.

And then there was nothing.

* * *

_**A/N**_

_**Cliff hanger, I know.**_

**_I don't know if Hermione was too out of character. Thoughts?_**

**_Special thanks to: _**

**_ZombieRaine (for corrections, please get back to me on that one), BrightStar, Fangirl (don't get used to it),ChelsMels (wait and see), punkyredhead(I love Zoe!), gypsygal(what do you think?), and sakiy._**

**_Next chapter should be up soon._**

**_Reviews make me happy. Happy writers write better. Ask Chuck, what do you think the call girls were for. _**

**_Dear Merlin, I'm weird.  
Gonna go now,_**

**_Hood_**


	7. Sympathy for the Witch

They came to in unfamiliar circumstances and Dean felt him stomach lurch as he looked around. If the seats and the air hostesses didn't confirm it, one look out the window did. They were on a plane, hundreds of miles in the air, with nothing but a few engines between him and an impromptu meeting with the ground.

"What the hell?" He hissed to Sam.

Sam glanced around, pale and sweating. The effects of killing Lilith were clearly still with him and his hands shook as the adrenaline wore off.

"I don't know."

"No, seriously. What the hell?"

"I don't know, Dean!"

"_This is your Captain speaking. Just to let you know we're passing over Illchester on our decent into..._"

Dean tuned out the speaker.

"Illchester." He murmured. "Weren't we just there?"

"Yeah but..."

The plane rocked in the air, lights flickering. With air masks strapped to his face and the entire plane panicking, it was Dean's worst nightmare all over again. He'd never been so glad to see an airport in his life as when that plane came into land.

* * *

Whoever had gotten them on the plan had given them tickets and passports tucked into the front of their seats. It wasn't until they were safely in the arrivals lounge, surrounded by relieved travellers that Dean realised what, or who more accurately, was missing.

"Hermione!" He shouted. Several people gave him weird looks, including his brother.

"What about her?"

Dean stared at him.

"She was coming after you." He paled. "She was at the convent, Chuck told me. Tell me you saw her, Sam. Please!"

Sam swallowed, looking ill.

"I didn't...I had no idea she was there."

Dean was already reaching for his phone and stabbing at his speed dial.

"Come on."

"_You've reached "Stop calling me, Dean". They can't come to the phone right now. Please leave a mess..._"

"Dammit."

"Nothing?"

Dean gritted his teeth and dialed the next number. This time they picked up after only one ring.

"Dean!"

Dean cast aside the pleasantries for information.

"Bobby, have you see 'Mione?"

"What? No. She left, hours ago to go after Sam. Where the hell are you? What happened?"

Sam must have read his expression because he paled, swallowing loudly.

"I'll..." Dean sighed. "I'll explain when we get there."

He ignored Bobby's protests and hung up.

"He hasn't heard from her."

He headed in the direction of the rental cars, but Sam grabbed at his elbow.

"Dean..."

"Don't, Sam." He sighed. The last thing he wanted to listen to was Sam's apologies. "Just don't. It's okay. We'll figure this out."

He was treated to the patented Sam Winchester puppy eyes before his little brother nodded.

"Yeah, okay."

* * *

They stayed silent until they were on the road to Bobby's.

"So, first things first we find Hermione. Zach said he had plans for her, whatever that means."

Sam frowned.

"I thought Heaven would want her to try and stop me."

"The angels have been playing us for months." Dean clenched his hands around the steering wheel. "That's why they locked me up. To stop you..." He trailed off. "If she went after you, who knows what could have happened to her."

"And then..."

"We'll work something out."

They were two hours away when they, to Dean's shame, remembered Cas. To be fair, it's been him and Sam for so long that he'd forgotten what it was like to have more than one person to care about. So instead he turned the car towards the home of Chuck Shirley.

* * *

The kitchen was in ruins, pieces of furniture littering the floor, and more worryingly, covered in blood splatters. Chuck was nowhere to be found.

"What do you think...Ow!" Dean turns around fast enough to see Sam backing away, clutching his head.

"Sam?" Chuck spluttered. "You're okay?"

"Well, my head hurts." Sam snarked grumpily.

Chuck dropped the plunger and groaned.

"Where's Cas?" Dean demanded, pushing past his brother.

"Cas?" Chuck stared at him, wide eyed. "Cas is dead. He exploded."

"You're sure?" Sam asked, because Dean didn't want to say anything.

"Yeah. He blew up like a giant, fleshy balloon."

Dean did his best to ignore the feeling in his chest as he add Castiel to the list of people who've died for him. It didn't do any good either. They still failed.

"And Hermione?" He managed to grind out. "She dead too?"

Chuck clutched at his head before his watery eyes jerk up to stare at them in horror.

"You have to go. They're coming!"

The flap of wings told Dean it was already entirely too late and that the inevitable has happened. "Thought we'd find you here." Zachariah stood in the prophets kitchen, flanked by a pair of flunkies. He grimaced as he took in the blood stains as though they were a particularly bad decorating choice and not the remains of a fellow angel. "Play times over, Dean. Time to come with us."

"You just keep your distance, ass-hat."

Zachariah tipped his head to one side.

"You're upset."

"Yeah, a little." He clenched his fists. "You sons of bitches jump-started judgement day. You killed my friends!"

"Maybe we let it happen," The angel acknowledged. "But we didn't start anything, did we, Sam? You had your chance to stop your brother and you couldn't. As for your friends, they knew the risks. But none of that matters," He smiled and Dean resisted the urge to punch him in the face. "We're on the same side now."

"Is that so?" Dean murmured.

"We both want the Devil dead." He seemed genuinely confused by Dean's hostility. "Is this about the sorceress?"

"Where's Hermione?" Sam demanded, moving forward so he stood at Dean's shoulder.

"She's..." He looked away. "missing. But don't worry, we're on the look out for her. She killed an angel last night."

"Why you walnut headed son of a bitch!" Dean snapped.

"Come on, Dean." Zachariah frowned. "This isn't a game. You can't get so worked up about the little details."

"Details?" Sam spat. "She's our friend."

"Forget about her! We need to strike Lucifer now, before he gathers enough power to find his vessel."

"Lucifer needs a meat suit?" Sam demanded.

"He's an angel. Them's the rules. You can stop him, Dean." He pressed. "But you'll need our help."

"Now, you listen to me you two-faced son of a bitch," His clenched his hand around the cut on his palm. "I don't want jack squat from you, and after what you did to Cas I want it even less. Sam!"

On cue, Sam rolled the partition door out and Dean slammed his bloody hand to the center of the the sidgil. Zachariah and his goons were flung from the room. "I learned that from my friend Cas, you jackass." He called after them.

"This sucks ass." Both hunters turned to face Chuck, who looked exhausted.

"Listen, _do_ you know where Hermione is?" Sam urged.

Chuck shrugged helplessly.

"I don't know what to tell you guys. She was never meant to be in this story anyway."

"What does that mean?" Dean demanded, towering over the Prophet.

"It means Cas changed the damn plot line when he brought her in." Chuck clutched at his hair, now apparently unconcerned about finding more bits of Castiel in it. "Normally, when we get a new character, I get a back story or a personality. Something! But she...She just arrived and the story changed to suit."

"And now...?"

Chuck snorted.

"Now nothing. She's gone, Dean. I don't know where."

* * *

There was a clearing in the forest. Unlike the Witches Circle, this one was lined with maple leaves which crinkled underfoot and tinted everything with russet reds. It was brown lump that caught the hunters eyes at first. Thinking it a deer, they approached cautiously, rifles resting against their shoulders. The first of them got a clear look at the crumpled heap on the floor and swore.

"David! Get on the radio. We need an ambulance." he crouched down beside the woman, pushing the gun to one side as his companion rummaged for their radio. "Hey! You breathin'?" There wasn't a response and at a loss for what to do he gathered up her belongings and stuffed them in her bag, including the wicked looking knife she'd had in one hand and the stick she'd had in the other. She had a pulse, but he didn't want to risk moving her and her breathing was shallow. "Come on... Wake up!"

* * *

"Hello, is this Bobby Singer?"

Bobby glared around his kitchen, although there was no one there to glare at. Unfortunately, all the usual suspects for causing him trouble, were either missing or dead.

"Yeah?" He confirmed suspiciously.

"This is Dr Singh from Sioux Falls Hospital. Your niece, Hermione Winchester, was brought in earlier today with rather severe injuries. Would you be able to come to the Hospital and answer some questions?"

Bobby sagged out of relief and nodded, before remembering he was on the phone.

"Yeah. Yes, I'll be right there."

He was out the door in the next minute and safely on the road within two. It wasn't surprising that they'd called him. After Sam had pointed out that if Hermione ever went to Hospital she was a) in the country illegally, b) without health insurance and c) probably not even human, Bobby had made her up a card with strict instructions if found dead or seriously injured. He'd never thought she'd have to use it though, and he distinctly remember printing her name as Singer, _not _Winchester.

He was lead to Hermione's room by a nurse who looked disapprovingly at his ball cap and breathed too heavily through her nose.

"Hey kid." He murmured.

Hermione looked awful. Her right arm was encased in plaster and her face was bruised, bottom lip split open. There was a gash across her forehead where someone, or something, had sliced at her head. Her brown eyes opened when he spoke and her lips twitched.

"Thank Merlin." She whispered in relief.

"How you doing?" He demanded, looking over her charts.

"I'm..." She shook her head. "Bobby, did we...?"

"Win?" He supplied dully. "Nope. Damn angels set the whole thing off as far as I can make out. Sam and Dean made it out though."

Her eyes closed in relief and she slumped into her pillows.

"How're you?"

"Not fine, obviously." She gave a dry chuckle and then winced as the movement pulled on something bruised. "I've been in worse states. Bobby, you've got to get me out of here."

Bobby frowned at her.

"You ain't going anywhere." He gestured to the IV line in her arm. "Literally. You look like you've been to hell and back."

For a woman who was mostly bruise, she couldn't half glare.

"I can't stay here, Bobby. At some point they're going to figure that I don't belong here."

The older hunter frowned, clenching his jaw.

"I go get the paperwork." He grumbled. "Can you get dressed?"

She nodded and he left, giving her some privacy.

By the time he'd returned from giving falsifying insurance details, Hermione had managed to pull a set of robes on over her hospital gown and a nurse had disengaged her from the machines.

"Can you walk?" He asked bluntly.

She stumbled towards him in answer and he grabbed the arm that wasn't strapped up, half dragging her along the corridor. The doctor gave them a heavily disapprovingly glare as they made their way past, but they both ignored him.

"Where are we going?" She asked quietly, once she was safely in the car. Bobby handed her the bag with her personal effects in it and started the engine. The car was more rust than metal and Hermione eyed the small hole in the floor boards with distrust.

"Dean's got a hotel room about two hours from here. It's where they're holed up, so we're headed there to help out. What the hell happened?"

"I went after Sam." Hermione sighed. "Apparently the angels didn't like that because they tried to stop me."

"And..."

"And they beat the hell out of me." She snapped. "What more do you want, Singer?"

"Did they give you any pain meds?" He asked carefully, unwilling to risk her anger any further.

"You do remember what you put on that card, don't you? Severe allergies to multiple drugs. Ringing a bell? That's why they called you. Didn't want to risk giving me something that might kill me." She shrugged. "I was unconscious for most of it, which is just as well really."

Bobby flushed.

"Well it seemed like a good idea at the time. Different species an' all."

"For the last time, I am human!" She hissed. "Completely and utterly human."

He grunted and a rude gesture at the ass hole who overtook him.

"What happened with the angels? How'd you get all the way to South Dakota anyway?"

Hermione shrugged as best she could.

"I don't know. The nurse told me I was found by a couple of hunters in the woods. Normal hunters, that is. They called for help and I was air lifted to the city. I don't know how I got there."

She dug around until she found her mobile and scowled. She stopped because it pulled at her stitches, but that didn't make the fifteen missed calls go away.

"All from Harry." She murmured, "Except one." She scrolled down to the most recent one from Dean where she paused for a second before dialing.

* * *

"Hermione?"

"Why does no one answer their phone with hello any more?" She mumbled.

Dean sank down onto the nearest bed and tipped his head back, mouthing "_thank you_" to whoever it was who was had put him on that plane.

"I thought you were dead." He managed, staring around the empty hotel room.

"Yeah, so did I." She murmured."Believe me, I'm as surprised as you are."

"What happened?" He blurted. "Chuck couldn't see you, said you'd vanished. Zachariah's got his goons out after you."

"I went after Sam." She sighed. "It took me ages to track him down and when I did, the angels blocked my path. The last thing I remember is this explosion coming from the convent and the..."

"You appeared somewhere else?"

"How did you know?"

Dean scoffed.

"Me and Sam were at ground zero, right next to the portal. Next thing we knew we'd ended up on a plane, flying past. Damn thing nearly crashed."

"And Castiel?"

"You were right." He told her. "He was trying to rebel. Got me out of Heaven and to Chuck's. Held off the Archangel. He...uh...didn't make it."

There was a long sigh, but not tears from what he could hear. Like him, she'd lost one too many comrades to be crippled by it.

"How are you?" He asked instead.

"Bloody awful. Yourself?"

"Pretty crappy."

"And Sam?"

Dean clenched his jaw for a second, glancing over at the empty second bed.

"In one piece. Listen, how soon can you get here? Bobby's on his way down."

"I know." She sighed. "He was on the way to the hospital to pick me up when you called. He should be there in about an hour and a half, maybe more."

Furious, Dean sat up right, tearing at his hair.

"Why didn't the bastard tell me? I was going insane!"

"Wanted to be sure, I suppose. Dean, I..."

He sighed, rubbing at his temples with his spare hand.

"Yeah?"

"I'm going home, Dean. I'm in no state to help you and..." Her voice broke and his eyes slid shut, knowing what she was about to admit to.

"I...I killed an angel, Dean."

"I know. Zachariah told me."

He heard her draw in a deep breath.

"That vessel would have had a family, like Jimmy's. It's not...Since the war..."

"Hermione, just go." Dean sighed. "I'll call you when we know anything for certain." He checked his watch. "You've got to be going to work anyway." He added bitterly and hung up.

* * *

Hermione stared at her phone dumbly for a second before she put it away and reached for her wand and port key.

"Look out for him." She muttered to Bobby.

Bobby nodded and a wand tap later, she was home. The transport, combined with the pain and the exhaustion was too much and she was sick across her carpet, heaving up the remains of Bobby's cooking. Sighing, she wiped a hand across her mouth, grabbed her phone and dialled Harry.

"I need help." She whispered. "Please."

* * *

Harry and Ron arrived two minutes later and supported her all the way to St Mungo's, Ron rambling on about barbaric muggle treatments. Apparently he'd never seen a plaster cast before. Hermione spun a tale about falling down some stairs and being unconsciously admitted to a muggle hospital by her neighbours, which Ron believed easily. Harry looked slightly more worried, but sat with her as her bones were reset. She'd had more injures than she'd first believed. A broken arm, several cracked ribs, cuts across both forearms and her back from angel blades and a large lump on her head.

"Where were you, 'Mione?" Harry asked quietly. "Because these cuts didn't come from falling down a staircase. Who was that man yelling for you, yesterday?"

"One of the other tenants." Hermione whispered. "He wanted a hand with something and I tripped on the way up to his flat. He's the one who called the Ambulance."

Harry huffed out a silent breath and nodded.

"Right. I've cleared it with Bullwinkle. He's letting you have the day off."

Hermione gave him a weak smile and uttered her thanks. Ron helped get her home, even going as far as to make her a cup of tea before he left, muttering about his mother's planned desert.

* * *

Emma Granger let herself into her daughter's flat just before noon. Hermione was asleep on the sofa, curled up in a ball, twitching. She woke her carefully and waited until Hermione stopped scanning the room for danger.

"Hello sweetheart."

"Mum!"

The Granger woman retreated to the kitchen table, each holding a large mug of tea.

"You want to tell me what happened?"

"Not really."

"Hermione!"

The younger Granger offered her mother a brief smile.

"I told you about the Winchesters, didn't I?"

Emma nodded silently.

"And about the Apocalypse?"

"I had hope you were being over dramatic."

Hermione's brown eyes, so like her father's, turned bitter.

"We failed. I didn't get there in time. Dean didn't get there in time. The angels..." She shuddered. "I killed a angel last night with his own weapon." A silver blade, more stake than knife, flew from her bag and into her hand. Hermione drove it point first, into the table and it quivered. "I killed, _again_ and it wasn't enough. His life didn't mean anything because I wasn't fast enough or strong enough to stop it."

Emma stared at her daughter, searching her face for some sign of the little girl she'd put on a train all those years ago. This girl...woman, even, was broken and cold, not a scholar but a soldier, who fought in battles that Emma couldn't imagine. She was still her daughter though.

"Hermione!" She pleaded. "Don't you dare put this on your shoulders. Don't you dare!" She moved around the table, wrapping her arms around her. "This wasn't your fault. You did your best, I know you did."

Hermione held tightly to her mother, shivering.

"It's all over." She murmured. "Isn't it?"

"Never." Emma forced her to look up at her. "Not while there is still one woman standing. You're not alone, are you? Those boys are still there?"

Hermione nodded.

"Then it's not over. As for that angel..." Emma pulled the blade from the table with the strength of a woman who pulled reluctant teeth for a living and presented it to her daughter who eyed it with the same dread she eyed kitchen knives. "The difference between you and a murderer is that you remember. You regret. If you want to make that life mean something, you do it in his name. Do you understand?"

Hermione paused and then nodded.

"Take it." Emma urged, pushing the blade closer. "You make the world a better place, you do it with his blade."

Trembling Hermione took the blade, wrapping her hand tightly around the hilt. It may have been Emma imagination but the blade looked smaller, more suited to Hermione's slighter hands.

They settled back around the table, tea now long since cold.

"Most people would have said "_last man standing_"" Hermione pointed out quietly.

Emma snorted.

"Men are all well and good. They fight for honour and for glory and to save people. But women...a woman fights because her children are cowering behind her. Because she knows she's the last line of defence. She fights to protect and she is the stronger for it." Emma paused. "My mother-in-law used to say that to me."

Hermione smiled. Her paternal grandmother had been a bear of a woman, who'd served in the Land Army as a girl and used to tell Hermione tales of wrestling cattle. Hermione had believed her too.

* * *

She slept most of the day and was awoken by what she thought was probably AC/DC. Her knowledge of rock music was rather lacking and for the life of her she couldn't work out how Dean had managed to change his ringtone. Or how to change it back, for that matter. She fumbled with the buttons and managed to answer the call, sinking back against her pilows.

"Hello?" She yawned.

"'Mione?" She swung her legs out of bed and began to summon the clothes she was inevitably going to need. Dean didn't do social calls.

"What's wrong?" She did her best to hide her yawn but didn't quite manage it.

"Did I wake you up?"

She rolled her eyes, tugging on her jeans.

"Not the first time." She muttered. "What's wrong, Dean?"

"You want the good news or the bad news?"

"Both."

"Um...Cas isn't dead but Bobby's in hospital which is why we need your help."

There was a pause as Hermione pulled her t-shirt over her head.

"Can he come and pick me up?"

"What?"

"Cas." She laced up her boots, glad they'd survived her fight with the angels. "I'm in London, Dean."

"Oh..."

"I'll pray and find out." She decided.

"Um..."

"There's more to this story, isn't there?" She murmured.

"I'll tell you when you get here."

"Keep safe." She mumbled and hung up.

Her wand was tucked into her wrist holster easily enough, but her hand hovered indecisively over the angel blade.

"Come on, Granger." She chided. Her magic sensed her intention and the blade jumped into her hand, fingers closing around it instinctively. Her pockets weren't deep enough, so she tucked it into the side of her boot for now and hoped she didn't managed to injure herself with it. "Castiel..." She whispered. "It's Hermione..."

* * *

_**A/N  
This should've been up yesterday, but I went to see the vampires and writing is hard to do when your sleep deprived and missing a pint of the red stuff. And then there were wasps and past and...I'll try and get the next chapter up today.**_

_**Any thoughts on this? **_

_**Special thanks go to:**_

_**ChelsMels (who'd better not tell anyone), Fangirl (I'm sure I would), nightgigjo (who needs grammer? But thanks. Appreciate it), xypherskoti, Bright Star (I don't know what you're insinuating), BeyondRubies and Zombie Rayne (For help with wasps, culture and do not get me started on the spider down stairs!).**_

_**You're all awesome.**_

_**Hood**_


	8. War on Earth

Castiel landed in the hospital car park and turned to face her, looking unusually serious.

"I believe thanks is in order." He murmured.

"For?"

"You stayed with the Winchesters even when it meant your death. You did not abandon your post, nor your orders and for that I am grateful."

Hermione snarled at him and a nearby car alarm went off.

"I didn't do it because of your orders. I did it because they're my friends. Because it was right."

She strode away, only to be brought to a stop as he called after her.

"You killed an angel."

"I did." She whispered. She drew the angel blade and presented it to Castiel, who'd appeared behind her. "What was their name?"

Castiel touched the blade with one finger and sighed.

"Simiel. I knew him, he was in my garrison. A lower ranked seraph." Blue eyes found hers. "Are you asking for forgiveness?"

"In a way." She murmured. "What's it made of?"

"Grace." He told her and she almost dropped the blade in shock. "Our blades are created by ourselves and they don't come into existence until we call for them. That..." He pointed, "Is the last remnant of Simiel's grace. The question is, what are you going to do with it?"

Hermione ran her fingers over the blade, marvelling at the warmth coming from it.

"What was he like?"

"Simiel?" The question seemed to surprise Castiel, but he answered anyway. "A good soldier. He followed orders without question." He frowned, searching for something that set the angel apart from every other. "He had large wings...They were green, like vine leaves and forest canopies."

She gaped at him.

"Okay." She managed. "My mother told me to keep it. As a reminder."

"It should be used." Castiel ground out. "He was a soldier, dedicated to following God. Use it to do God's will."

"I thought the angels didn't talk to me."

Castiel sighed.

"I don't think that the two are the same any longer. I must go."

He vanished and she tucked the blade back into her boot. It would require further thought but for now she had bigger problems. The hospital was a veritable warren and she eventually gave up and texted Dean for directions. He met her outside of the shop, striding into view. He hugged her as soon as she was close enough and Hermione sighed into his shoulder.

"Thank you." He breathed, releasing her.

"For?"

Dean grimaced and they headed for the stairs.

"Sticking with Sammy. You didn't give up on him and yeah...Bobby told me what happened to you. I'm sorry about earlier."

"Don't be."

Dean pulled her to a stop at the top of the staircase.

"Listen, you need to know a few things. We got ambushed by demons yesterday and one of the possessed Bobby, which is how he got hurt. Then we had to go to Dad's lock-up in New York to find something called the Michael sword, which Becky told us about. So we got there and then there was Zach and a bunch of angels and they gave me stomach cancer and stole Sam's lungs and then Cas showed us and did him smiting angel thing and apparently I'm the Michael sword."

Hermione was adept as picking up information very quickly but even for her that was pushing things. Dean glared at her as she clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Shut up." She ordered. "So the demons were after the Michael sword, correct?"

Nod.

"And, _don't lick me_, that's how Bobby got hurt?"

Nod.

"Did Sam's lungs come back?"

Nod.

She removed her hand, wiping it on his shirt.

"What the Michael sword, exactly?"

"A vessel." Her eyes widened. "Exactly. Apparently Michael wants to wear me to the prom."

"Wonderful. Next question. Who is Becky?"

Dean's eyes lit with an unholy glee and he led them through the double doors and out into the corridor. "You know how Chuck wrote those books about us?"

"No."

He flushed, remembering why, specifically, he hadn't told her about them.

"Well, anyway, apparently we've got a pretty big following and Becky is like this fangirl. You should have seen her. I thought she'd start drooling on Sam."

Her lips twitched slightly.

"Listen," He caught her shoulder, holding her back. "Bobby's in a bit of a mood."

"Why?"

"They kinda said he'd never walk again."

She paled and followed him into the hotel room. It was just Bobby and he was sitting up in his bed, glaring for all he was worth.

"Hey kid." He snapped, seeing her. Hermione winced and sat down in the chair, hiding her head in her hands.

"What's wrong with her?" Bobby asked.

Dean sighed, understanding almost instantly.

"You can't do it, can you?"

"Paralysis...is something even we haven't fully mastered." She glanced up, looking distraught. "If this was a spell or a curse or _something_ maybe I could help but..." She stared at Bobby who glared straight back. "I'm very sorry, Bobby. Really I am."

Bobby looked away.

"There's nothing you can do...?" Dean begged.

"There are experimental potions...charms...None of them work, Dean. The last person who got anywhere close enough died when her cauldron blew up."

"But you've got magic.."

She got to her feet and tugged him out into the corridor.

"What do I have to say to get this through your head. "_Dammit Dean, I'm a hunter not a doctor"_? I am no healer. Maybe Castiel can do something, but _this _is beyond me."

He leaned against the wall and watched her from the corner of his eye.

"_You've_ seen Star Trek?" He asked doubtfully.

"It was my fathers favourite tv show." She leaned next to him. "Where's Sam?"

"Canteen, I think. We've got a motel room if you need somewhere to sleep. You look kinda exhausted."

She shook her head.

"I think I'm going to find Sam." She murmured.

* * *

Sam had folded his enormous frame into one of the hospital chairs and was flicking through his phone.

"I thought you were getting food."

He jumped up almost immediately.

"Hermione, I..." She slapped him across the face and he took it without wincing. She glared up at him.

"You idiot." She hissed, before she reached for him, hugging him tightly. "You complete and utter idiot. I'm so glad you're okay."

Sam didn't seem to know what to do with his hands, so he rested them on her shoulders.

"What?" he gasped.

Hermione pulled back, smiling gently.

"I was worried sick about you." she reached up, stroking his hair back from his face. "You look exhausted."

Sam shrugged.

"I'm alright."

"No, your not." She whispered. "But you will be, I think. You and Dean need to go back to your motel and _sleep._"

"We can't leave Bobby. There are demons and..."

"And what am I? A pumpkin? I'll watch Bobby. You and Dean need to rest. Please..."

Sam sighed and nodded.

"You have to get Dean to say yes."

She rolled her eyes.

"Hardly a problem."

* * *

For the next three days there was a constant guard at Bobby's bedside. Hermione told the nurses that the Winchesters were Bobby's sons and she was his niece. Because they were now so terrified of the gruff hunter, they agreed to extend visiting hours for them. Hermione took the night shift, spending her time sleeping in the chair by Bobby's bed, before she returned home for work. Aside from dropping her off, Castiel completely unfindable and seemed more and more exhausted every time she saw him. Bobby was gruff and unyielding, only cheering up when Dean snuck in his morning pancakes.

"Changeover." Hermione greeted.

Dean grunted and levered himself from the chair, stretching.

"How're you?"

"Surrounded by morons." She groaned. "Some idiot in accounting decided that my proposed expansion for centaur lands was too "_costly an investment_" for the Ministry to afford" She was still dressed in her robes and tugged at the navy blue fabric. "My boss gave me tomorrow off because he thinks I'm going to murder the bureaucratic arse."

Dean smirked.

"And are you?"

"Don't tempt me." She grumbled darkly. "How's he been?"

Dean scoffed.

"He stares out the window all day...Won't speak to anyone."

"This is the man who told you to stop whining like a princess who that ghost nailed your hand to a wall?"

Dean nodded, rubbing at his hand. There wasn't a scar but that was more due to magic than his healing abilities.  
Hermione smiled up at Sam when he hugged her and they stood in the doorway watching the older hunter. The younger Winchester had become more physically affectionate recently, usually staying quite close to her. Hermione got the feeling it was because Dean, in his _infinite_ wisdom, refused to talk to Sam about what happened and he was looking for comfort.

"It's like he won't believe it." Sam murmured.

"I can hear you, ya idgits. Quit gossiping like a bunch of girls."

Hermione's temper, already short, snapped.

"Oh, that's it." She strode over and spun Bobby's wheelchair so he was facing her. "Yes, you're stuck in a wheelchair. Yes, you're probably going to be that way for the rest of your life."

"I'm sorry, is that supposed to make me feel better?" Bobby snapped.

"No!" She hissed. "What's happened was terrible, but at least you're not dead, or worse _possessed_. You can still carry on with your life, Bobby. You've still got your family and your friends. The world hasn't ended yet. So stop whining like a Quidditch player with a broken broom and get on with it."

"She's got a point, Bobby." Sam piped up.

"Oh, whose side are you on?" Bobby groaned.

Dean's phone rang and he turned away to answer it, and Hermione crouched down by the side of his wheelchair.

"You've still got them, Bobby. They don't need you to protect them any more."

"It's my job to protect them." He grumbled.

Hermione chuckled.

"I know. Don't worry, you can save Dean from all the research he's going to have to do."

Bobby's lips twitched into an almost smile and Hermione counted it as win.

"That was Cas." Dean announced. "He's on his way."

Hermione frowned, smoothing her robes as she got to her feet.

"He was only across the road." She pointed out. "Why did he bother calling?"

"I assumed the Winchesters had already left." Castiel appeared silent behind Sam, causing everyone to jump and Hermione to go for her wand. "Apologies."

"Yeah, damn angel apologises to you. Where have you been?" Dean barked.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You're hidden from angels now, Dean."

"I'm not." She piped up. "You could just track me. I'm usually with them."

"Enough foreplay."

They all turned to Bobby.

"Heal me." He demanded.

Castiel gave a heavy sigh.

"I cannot. Much like Hermione, this is beyond my power."

"Say again?" Bobby asked in a dangerous tone. Hermione stepped out of the way and he wheeled towards the angel.

"I'm cut off from Heaven. There are certain things I can't do and this is one of them."

"You're telling me you lost your angel mojo just in time for me to get stuck in this damn chair for the rest of my life!"

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, shove it up your ass." He wheeled himself back to the window and returned to staring out at nothing.

"Well, at least he's talking." Dean muttered.

"I haven't got much time." Castiel checked over his shoulder as though he was expecting to be discovered any second. "Hermione told me of your plan to kill Lucifer?"

"And...?" Sam asked eagerly.

"It's ludicrous and can't be done."

"Very helpful." Hermione murmured.

Castiel nodded, the sarcasm going completely over his head.

"But I believe I have a solution. There is someone other than Michael who is strong enough to stand up to Lucifer."

They stared at him.

"Who?"

"God."

There was a pause and then Dean closed the door, sealing them inside Bobby's room.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, confused. "But did you just say, _God_?"

"Yes."

"God?" Dean repeated.

"Yes." The angel stressed. "He's not in heaven. He has to be somewhere."

"Try New Mexico." Dean joked. "I hear he's on a tortilla."

"Dean." Hermione hissed as Castiel said;

"No, he's not on any flat bread."

Dean sighed.

"Look, Cas. Either he's dead, which is the generous theory, or he's hiding out somewhere and doesn't give a rat's ass."

Castiel glared at him.

"He is not dead. We would know."

"He doesn't care about us, man. Look at the world..." He stared at Hermione. "Why are you shaking your head?"

"Because it doesn't fit." She winced as he glared at her. "Think about it. _Someone _rescued us from Illchester. Now, you two I could pretend it was the angels, but _me_? The angels hate me, Dean. Why would they save me?" Dean opened his mouth to argue and she kept talking. "Not only that, but they put me somewhere I would get help. They cleaned Sam's system of demon blood." Sam winced. "Someone out there is incredibly powerful and actually cares enough about us to save our lives." She shrugged and Sam caught Castiel staring at her approvingly. "Why couldn't it be God?"

"With God's help, we can win."

Dean groaned.

"You two are insane."

Castiel's eyes went cold.

"I killed two angels this week. My brothers. I'm hunted. I rebelled. And I did it, all of it, for you and you failed. The three of you destroyed the world and I lost everything, for nothing. So you will keep your opinions to yourself."

Hermione sighed, feeling the warm blade in the pocket of her robes.

"You didn't just come here to tear us a new one." Bobby glared at him. "What did you want?"

"An amulet. Very rare and extremely powerful. It will grow warm in God's presence."

"Well, I ain't got nothin' like that." Bobby snapped. "Hermione?"

She shook her head before she noticed where Castiel was looking.

"I don't think he was asking us."

Dean glanced down at the amulet resting against his shirt.

"What? No."

"Give it to me, Dean."

Dean stared at the angel.

"You really need it?"

"I would not ask otherwise."

Slowly, Dean removed it and held it out for Castiel.

"Just..." He glanced at Sam. "Take care of it."

Castiel tucked the amulet in his pocket.

"Great," Dean grumbled. "Now I feel naked."

"A word, Castiel." She grabbed his sleeve and disapparated, taking the angel with her.

Bobby sighed.

"Don't you hate it when they do that?"

* * *

"Hermione..."

"If you haven't got time to linger here, how do you have the time to ferry me across the world?"

"Your presence here in important. Which reminds me..." He pressed a hand to her chest and Hermione felt his grace sear across her ribs. "There are angels looking for you."

She gritted her teeth and stepped closer to him.

"_Why_ is my presence so important? What am I supposed to be doing here? Castiel!"

He'd vanished and Hermione employed one of Dean's favourite swearwords, shocking a nearby pedestrian. She apparated back to the Hospital and found the Winchesters readying to leave.

"Where are we going?"

"River Pass, Colorado."

She waved at Bobby over Dean's shoulder as they herded her towards the stairs. "Rufus, one of the hunters, he's in trouble. We're going to help him."

Sensing she wasn't going to get a vote in this, Hermione nodded and found herself in her usual seat in the back of the Impala.

* * *

It was a long drive and Hermione slept for most of it. She'd changed when Dean had stopped for coffee, but hadn't been able to stay awake much longer. She awoke almost twenty minutes out from the town and it wasn't long before they were pulling to a stop.

"This is the only road in or out." Sam pointed out. Dean kicked a piece of rubble into the river, which is rushing below them. The remains of the bridge are just visible in the water below, large chunks of concrete.

"Rufus was right." Dean added. "Whole place is locked down tight. Can you get across that?"

Hermione glanced up, chewing her lip.

"Should be able to. Hang on." She twisted on her heel and appeared on the other side of the bridge.

"Right. Come back and we'll get the stuff." Hermione turned and then frowned.

"Oh, that's not good." She murmured.

Dean sighed.

"Please, tell me you're not stuck."

"I'm stuck. Whatever's cut the town off, has warded against magic. Open the back door Sam?"

Confused Sam opened the door and then ducked as she summoned her bag and gun from the car.

"Must just be apparition." She decided.

"Would you not!" Sam shouted getting to his feet.

Hermione rolled her eyes and sat down to wait. It took twenty minutes for Dean to hide the Impala and for both men to trek across the river. They walked into town together, Hermione having accepted the spare shotgun Sam had brought her. It was deserted, cars abandoned in the middle of the road, radios playing, sprinklers still working. Here and there were the signs of a struggle, the occasional broken window and drying pool of blood.

A gun cocked and they turned quickly, weapons rising.

"Hello boys."

She was a tall woman, taller than Hermione at least, with wrinkles around her eyes and hair cut to her shoulders.

"Ellen?" Dean walked towards her. "What the heck's going on here?"

It was the censorship of Dean's language, rather than the recognition, which convinces Hermione to take her finger off the trigger of her gun. She tried to restrain her smile when he was splashed with Holy Water, though.

"It's us." He snapped, grumpily.

"Who's this?" Ellen demanded as soon as they were safely inside the church.

Dean winced.

"Hermione, meet Ellen Harvelle. Ellen, this is Hermione. We've been hunting with her for a while."

Hermione offered the woman a smile, which wasn't returned and moved so she was hiding behind Sam, who patted her shoulder in sympathy.

"I'm real glad to see you boys." Ellen hugged Dean, before she leaned back and slapped him. Sam's poker face would be a lot more effective if Hermione couldn't see that he was digging his fingernails into his hands to stop himself from laughing. "The can of whoop-ass I ought to open on you two. You couldn't call or let me know you two were okay? You allergic to giving me piece of mind? I had to find out you were alive from Rufus?"

Dean winced, rubbing his jaw.

"Sorry, Ellen." He muttered.

"You'd better put me on speed dial, kid."

"Yes, ma'am."

If Sam didn't get himself under control soon he was going to draw blood. Ellen lead them down into the cellar beneath the church and paused.

"This is it, right? The end times?"

"Seems like." Sam murmured, now sober.

"How many demons are there?" Dean asked.

"The whole town, minus the dead people and the ones I've managed to save." She rapped on the door. "It's me."

The door was opened by a young man with suspicious eyes and a rifle. Ellen stepped aside to let them in.

"This is Sam and Dean." She announced. "And Hermione, I guess. They're hunters. Here to help."

The room is full of people, which isn't saying much because it's a small room. They're an eclectic mix, mostly older, ranging from a pregnant woman to the priest, who was sitting by the wall.

"Catch us up." Dean ordered.

"I don't know much more than you. We, me and Jo arrived and the town was pretty much as it is now. We got separated when we went looking for Rufus."

"We'll find her." Sam promised.

"Either way we need more guns..."

"You don't know what it's like out there." Ellen protested. "You'll get killed. There used to be twenty of us, you know."

"And now there are four hunters. We'll work something out."

"That sports shop will have guns." Sam suggested.

"What about..."

"If we see Jo or Rufus, we'll bring them back." He grinned. "Don't worry."

They left their bags and headed back out.

"Why don't you stay here?" Dean suggested innocently. Hermione turned to protest before she realised he was talking to Sam.

"Why?"

"Someone needs to teach them Shotgun 101 and Hermione only knows about the one's we've got."

"Ellen can do it."

Hermione rolled her eyes and headed up the stairs. She knew why Dean was reluctant to let Sam near demons, but he had to do it sometime. Now wasn't ideal, but they had little choice.

"I'll get the salt, you two get the guns." Sam snapped as they appeared on the street.

Dean nodded.

"Okay fine." He waited until Sam had turned his back before he pointed to Hermione and then the small shop. She sighed and followed Sam.

"Oh, come on." Sam groaned, when he saw her. "I don't need a babysitter."

"Be quiet." Hermione lead the way into the shop, her shotgun loose by her side. "You get the salt, I'll grab some food."

"Dean said..."

"Even if we do make a run for it tonight, well fed people fight better."

She disappeared to the other side of the shop and Sam sighed, heading for the salt. He'd half filled the bag when the bell above the door rang. He swore under his breath when he saw the demons in the mirror and realised he'd left his shotgun out of his reach. The first one rounded the corner before he could ever start the exorcism and Sam smacked the tub of salt over the back of his head and drew Ruby's knife, driving it into his back. The noise had summoned his partner, who advanced on Sam, before he stopped and gurgled. Sam watched, amazed, as the demon spasmed and then fell forward, sliding cleanly off the end of the angel blade. A drop of blood made its way to the tip of the blade, before it dropped onto the floor.

"Sam!" Hermione warned. Dean appeared at her shoulder, his entrance having gone unnoticed by the other hunters.

"Dammit Sam." Dean cursed.

* * *

Shotgun 101, as Dean called it, could probably have gone better. They each take a small group and split up, explaining how to load, aim, fire, what could go wrong, where _not _to point it and how to make salt rounds. Simiel's blade was back in her boot and though Hermione had managed to wipe the blood off, she couldn't help but feel guilty. Sam settled beside her and nodded.

"You too?"

"There were just teenagers." She murmured. "And now..."

"They're dead. Yeah." He sighed. "I just wish I could go back to saving them. Like I used to."

"What when you were hopped up on demon blood?" Dean demanded. They both looked up, surprised to see him standing there.

"I didn't say that." Sam defended.

Dean opened his mouth, but Hermione kicked his shin as Ellen approached them.

"I'm heading out." She stated.

"What?"

"I've got to go find Jo. She's out there somewhere and..."

"I'll go with you." Hermione blurted and they all turned to her in surprise. "You can't go on your own and the boys are needed here."

Ellen turned to Dean.

"She any good?"

"Trained her myself. She's not going though." He dragged Hermione outside and trapped her between the wall and his chest. "What. The. Hell?"

She glared up at him, unimpressed.

"You've got a choice, Winchester. Either I go or Sam volunteers and you have that argument I _know_ you've been dreading."

His jaw clenched and he scowled.

"It's dangerous..."

"Oh, spare me. Veteran." She snapped. "Remember? I'm not a child, Dean. I can take care of myself."

"Believe me, I am very much aware you're not a child. But still..." He sighed. "You're gonna go anyway, aren't you?"

"Mmm."

"Damn it. Listen, keep the magic to a minimum. Ellen's a hunter and if she sees any funny business she'll stab you herself. Got your angel blade?"

She nodded.

"Know how to use it?" He added doubtfully.

"Pointy end in the enemy. It's an angel blade, Dean, does the work for me."

He stepped back scowling.

"I don't like this."

"I don't like you." She retaliated. "You get really mean without pie."

* * *

"So who is Jo?" Hermione asked as they headed down the Main Street.

Ellen scowled.

"My daughter. She's about your height, blonde hair."

Hermione nodded.

"You gonna tell me what's going on with those boys?" Ellen asked as they headed into the more suburban streets. "Only, they seem to be at each others throats."

"Not really my story to tell." Hermione murmured.

"Fair enough. How'd you meet them?"

"Angel." Hermione grinned slightly. "How does anyone meet anyone?"

"You sleeping both of them or just one?"

Hermione almost dropped her gun in shock.

"What? I'm not..."

Ellen snorted.

"Whatever you say."

Hermione pointed to a nearby house, hidden behind trees.

"Smoke."

"Survivors?"

"Possibly."

They made their way to the house, sticking to the shadows provided by the trees. Through the window they could see a black eyed demon, pacing.

"Guess we found bass camp." Ellen murmured, shifting closer.

The demons came out of nowhere and Hermione raised her gun, only to have Ellen knock the shot wild.

"That's Jo!" She yelled.

Hermione sighed and twirled the gun, using it to smack into the nearest demon's face, shattering it's nose. It recoiled sharply and Hermione turned to see Ellen pinned to the wall by her daughter. She yanked the demon away, only to take a fist to the back of the head. Eyes swimming, she stumbled.

"Ellen, run." She snapped and grabbed Jo's knees stopping her pursuing by toppling her. Hermione was fighting to get up, when she was struck her temple with the butt of his gun and she crumpled.

* * *

Sam and Dean were sitting in the basement, avoiding each others eyes, when Ellen returned, hammering on the door.

"Where's Hermione?" Dean demanded instantly.

Ellen just shook her head and sat down at the table, resting her head in her hands.

"Dean, we've got to go after her." Sam reached for his gun. "Come on."

He took a look around the room and sighed, shaking his head.

"We can't, Sam. Not..."

"This is Hermione!" Sam stared at him incredulously. "We can't just leave her."

Ellen muttered something that sounded like,

"That'd be both then." and was ignored.

"Yeah, we can." Dean sighed. "She's a soldier, she'd do the same." He turned to Ellen. "Tell me what happened."

* * *

It was a dark sitting room, with a fire blazing in the fireplace. She came to slowly, rolling her head on her shoulders to try and relieve some of the pain before she opened her eyes. She reeled back in shock when she saw the demon standing in front of her, pulling against her restraints and almost toppling her chair.

The demon grinned, white teeth standing out against dark skin.

"Uh, uh. You're stuck right where I want you." He gestured to the bindings. "Did those myself."

Hermione swallowed and for one horrible second she was back in Malfoy Manor. But then her vision cleared and she stared straight into the demon's eyes. "You little bitch." he murmured and back handed her. Her head snapped to the side and when she looked up again, Jo upended the water carrier she'd been holding over her head. Hermione spluttered, closing her eyes against the liquid. One of them grabbed her jaw, wrenching it open before they poured salt into her mouth. Hermione began to choke, spitting out as much as she could manage.

"What kind of demons are you?" She demanded when the backed off.

Jo tossed more water over her and she sighed, irritated.

"Why isn't it working?" Jo muttered to the other demon.

He shrugged.

"I don't know. She's not as strong as she thinks she is. She'll break."

"Her mother's looking for her." Hermione stated, spitting out more salt. "That girl you're using as a meat suit. Her mother's looking for her. Hell of a woman too, scares me."

Jo, or whoever was in her, slapped Hermione across the face.

"Don't you dare talk about my mother."

Hermione paused and then stared at her.

"Your mother? You're a demon, you don't have mothers." Hermione looked up at the demon trap and frowned. "What colour are my eyes?"

"Don't listen to her, Jo."

"But...Rufus..."

Rufus pulled her away and before the door closed Hermione caught a glimpse of man she was certain was in the basement with Dean. He raised a hand and twisted the ring on it in greeting.

* * *

"So what do we do?"

Dean sighed.

"How the hell am I supposed to know? Sam?"

Sam fiddled with a piece of paper.

"I have an idea. Me and 'Mione were working on the signs of the Apocalypse. We figured if we knew what was coming, we might stand a better chance. Something is evidently not right here. If Jo really called you a black eyed bitch and she had a charm on, then something has to be wrong." He glanced at Ellen. "What did Rufus say brought him here? Was there an omen or something?"

"He said something about the water." Ellen shrugged, "I don't know."

Sam turned to the priest.

"Water? What's that mean?"

"About a week ago the river ran polluted. Without warning."

"When?"

"About a week ago." Another of the survivors piped up. "I remember because there was that shooting star that night and the demon thing started the next day."

Sam grinned.

"I know what this is." He circled something with his pen and passed over the sheet of paper covered in Hermione's cramped handwriting and Sam's scrawl. Dean frowned at the passage.

"Shooting star...river...lots of deaths." He scowled. "This is from Revelation?"

Sam nodded eagerly.

"It's the four horsemen, War, specifically. We were hoping that it wasn't...well, literal."

Dean sighed.

"Jo thinks you're a demon. We think they're demons. What if there are no demons at all and he's got us turning on ourselves?"

Ellen gaped at him.

"War." She murmured. "We kill each other."

"He's the red horse," He asked Sam. "Isn't he?"

Sam nodded and then frowned as he understood.

"That red mustang we passed on the way in. You think that was..."

Dean nodded.

"It's how I'd do it."

* * *

She'd been tied to this chair for hours, waiting. The sun had long since set and the room was lit only by candles. She leaned back and smiled when she saw the door opening.

"It's about time." She murmured.

The man with the grey hair and the ring, grimaced.

"Don't talk to me about timing." He took off his glasses and tucked them in his pocket.

"What are you?" She demanded imperiously.

"You caught me." He closed the door behind him and reached for the chair, settling in front of her. "I just popped into watch the mayhem."

She rolled her eyes.

"Who are you?"

"Here's a hint." He grinned. "I was in Germany and then in Germany and then the Middle East, I was in England last year...I was very busy in Darfur when I got the message." She sighed. "I'm waiting to hook up with my siblings...I've got three."

Hermione groaned.

"I was hoping you weren't real." He snorted. "You can't blame me for a little nativity." She spat. "If there was anything I wanted not to be real, War was definitely it. There aren't any demons in town, are there?"

"Nope." He smirked at her. "Just scared people doing what people do best. I've barely had to do anything to push them along. Aside from the bridge."

"And the mass hallucination." Hermione added.

"You know, I've heard of you. I was there, in England. I mean you called it a war, you lot practically summoned me."

"On whose side?" She wondered.

"No ones. I just like watching you lot kill each other. You don't even need a lot of incentive either. I mean I may have got the ball rolling, but _this_," He gestured around the room. "This is them."

Hermione glared at him and stayed silent, eyes focused on the ring on his finger. It was gold with energy pouring off it in waves.

"I know, I'm a monster, blah, blah, blah. I am...jello shots at a party, Hermione. I remove inhibitions." He grinned. "You're not as bad as Sam, I'll grant you. Poor kid's got nothing but demon blood on the brain. But you...you got separated in that final battle, didn't you?" Hermione's face drained of colour. "Your friends never saw how vicious you can be. Eleven." She flinched and his grin became triumphant. "Eleven people's blood on your hands. Six Death Eaters, three people who picked the wrong side, one angel and one innocent who was just going to steal salt. You're just as much a monster as I am. Let's see...pushed out of a window? Check. Cursed to face a horrible death? Check. Stabbed? Check. Exploded? Check...The list goes on..." he got to his feet, shaking his head. "All those good intentions and you know _exactly_ where you're going. That's why you'll do anything to help..."

"Shut up." she snapped.

He laughed.

"Shut up!"

"Murderer..." He taunted and Hermione screamed at him.

"NO!" Her head dropped to her chest, tears dripping onto her shirt. "No, no, no, no."

He kicked the chair across the room, twisting his ring as he did so, before he dropped his knees and yelled out in pain.

The door burst open almost instantly and Jo and Rufus, armed to the teeth.

"She said they're coming!" War cried.

Hermione looked up with wet eyes at the hunters and shook her head silently.

"She said they're coming to get us!"

* * *

Dean glared at the man, Roger, who was panting, eyes wild as he looked around the room. Sam was leaning against the door, peering into Hermione's bag as he looked for something to help.

"The demons..." He gasped. "They're coming."

Ellen stared at him confused, as Dean shook his head.

"I thought you said there were no demons!" Someone yelled.

"There aren't. What did you see exactly? Where did you go?"

"I thought someone ought to go see what was going on. They're coming to kill us and if we just sit here..."

One of the men began handing out weapons.

"We need to go. Now! Or they'll come and kill us all."

Dean groaned.

"No, we don't." He caught Roger's eye and the man winked, raising his hand. Dean's gaze went to the ring on it as he turned it.

"Look at their eyes. They're demons!" Roger yelled.

"Look!"

Sam, Dean and Ellen backed away, until Sam wrenched the door open and they fled up the staircase, narrowly avoiding the shotgun shells.

"Run!"

* * *

There'd been an explosion downstairs and some breaking glass and Hermione was going to go insane if someone didn't release her soon. Then there was thundering up the staircase and Sam and Dean burst in the door.

"Are we all okay on the horsemen front?" Hermione snapped, patience officially at an end.

Dean rolled his eyes and shot forward to untie her.

"Yeah, she's all right."

"What we don't know is how he's doing it?" Sam tossed Hermione her shotgun, which Jo had propped against the door.

"His ring." She gasped, getting to her feet. Sam gaped at her. "I forget you can't feel these things. The ring on his hand. The power coming off it is immense."

Dean nodded, dragging them towards the door.

"That fits. He turned the damn thing right before he told everyone we were demons."

There were more gunshots as they came downstairs.

"What happening?" She demanded.

"We're surrounded." Jo bounded up to them and grimaced. "Sorry about everything."

She shrugged.

"Later."

"We're going after War. We need to get that ring off him." Dean yelled as he and Sam sped off.

"We need to stop the fighting." Hermione snapped tugging the guns away from those closest to her. "Where's Ellen?"

"She headed outside." Rufus glared at her. "What you gonna do about it?"

Hermione spotted Ellen outside the broken windows of the front garden and didn't bother answering, instead leaping through and down the veranda steps. The man who'd pinned Ellen to the ground tossed his gun aside and pulled his put his knife. Hermione jumped on him, rolling to the side. He had the greater strength and ended up on top, knife in his hands. Ellen grabbed up his disregarded gun and knocked him out with one blow. Hermione beamed and then turned to the fallen priest and noticed his eyes were no longer black.

"Took you long enough." She muttered grumpily and helped apply pressure to his bullet wound.

* * *

They stopped in a National Park and Hermione examined the ring, still stained with blood.

"We could drop it in Mount Doom?" Dean offered.

She snorted.

"The problem with dropping it is you never know who might catch it." She passed it back. "Keep it, for now. Could come in useful."

They sat in silence for a while and Hermione watched Sam work up the courage to open his mouth. She cast a Notice-Me-Not charm wordlessly and let them forget she was there.

"Dean..."

"Sam, can we not?" Dean barked.

"No." He bit his lip before continuing. "I need to say this. I know you don't trust me and the truth is...I don't trust me either. From the minute I saw that blood...the only thought in my head..." He trailed off but they got the picture. Hermione thought back to War and what he'd said. "And I tell myself I'm doing this for the right reasons and it's true, Dean. I believe it. But I think, underneath, I just missed the feel and I know how messed up that sounds, which means I know how messed up I am."

Dean sighed and looked out across the lake.

"The thing is I can't blame the demon blood. Or even Ruby. That didn't make me bite 'Mione or any of those other things I did because..." He swallowed. "The problem is me. There's something in me that scares the hell out of me, Dean. And what with this...I caught another glimpse." Dean's face was stony and he didn't look at them.

"So what are you saying?" He said at last. "That you're a monster."

Sam flinched, but nodded.

"I think it's best we go our separate ways."

"Don't do this." Hermione begged and they both jumped. "Sam, please!"

"I'm not safe, Hermione."

"I think he's right."

Sam and Hermione turned to face Dean, equal expressions of shock on their faces.

"What?" She managed.

"Truth is I spend more time worrying about you than about doing my damn job. I can't afford that. Not with the Apocalypse."

Sam just sat there looking heart broken.

"I'm sorry, Dean." He managed.

"I know you are."

Sam turned and got up to leave.

"Take care of yourself, Dean. You too, 'Mione."

Hermione stared, disbelievingly at Dean.

"Yeah, you too, Sammy."

"Don't do this." Hermione begged quietly as Sam walked away. "Dean, please. Do not do this to him!"

Dean's jaw clenched.

"His choice." He snapped and got up, heading in the opposite direction.

"Oh, come on!" Hermione shouted, watching the brothers go their separate ways. Neither brother turned around. "Castiel!" She yelled. The angel manifested by her elbow. "Go with Dean." She ordered. "Keep him safe. I'm going to stop Sam doing something stupid."

"Your orders are to stay with Dean." The angel growled.

Hermione glared up at him.

"You want Dean Winchester saved? Then you need Sam. They don't come separately, you know."

"Hermione..."

"Go, Cas. I have a Winchester to catch."

* * *

**_A/N_**

**_Bit later than I intended but it's the longest chapter yet. I hope you liked it. _**

**_Special thanks to:_**

**_BrightStar, Krazyfanfiction1, gypsymooneysgirl7733 (um), ChelsMels, meldz, NorthernLights25, mh21 and angel897. _**

**_Let me know what you think,_**

**_Hood_**


	9. Winchester in London

"Sam, it wasn't your fault."

Sam glared at her ferociously, and if it wasn't for the sticking charm she'd added to his feet, would probably have stormed off. She cornered him not long after Dean had left and they were deep in the park land on one of the trails.

"I set Lucifer free! How is that not my fault?"

"Yes." She explained patiently. "But you didn't mean to. In my world that counts for more than you'd think."

Sam scoffed.

"You mean you know someone else who managed to cause the end of the world?"

"Well, no." Hermione sighed and settled on a nearby rock. They were surrounded by a dense copse of trees, larches and pines stretching skywards. It was drizzling and Hermione felt cold and far too tired for this conversation. "When I was sixteen, Harry got a vision." That got Sam's attention and he stopped struggling against her magic. "He saw..." She swallowed and took a deep breath. "Voldemort, torturing Sirius Black, his godfather, in the Department of Mysteries. I told him, begged him to just stop and think, but he was so convinced. So when we couldn't reach Sirius to find out if he was okay, we charged off, six teenagers to face a megalomaniac and save Sirius. Only everything, down to the vision, was a trap. Sirius was at home, safe, but we were trapped by Death Eaters who wanted Harry. The resulting fight meant that the Order of the Phoenix, were called in to help. And Sirius, the very person we were there to save, fell beyond the veil."

"When you say..."

"He's dead." She said flatly. "Killed by a curtain. I suspect we may be able to laugh about that someday, but I've yet to find it funny. Still, my point is...would you blame Harry? Sirius's death was clearly caused by his actions, but would you blame him?"

Sam fell silent.

"What about the demon blood?" He said at last, well aware of the broiling urge lurking at the back of his mind.

"It's not good. I won't lie to you about that. But..." A slight twinkle entered her eyes. "According to the Rare Creatures Bill of 2009, you're a protected species. So that's something." She handed him a plastic card with his name and picture on it. "Your ID."

"When was this bill passed?" He asked warily, turning the card so the hologram caught the light.

Hermione's face went blank.

"Last week." She winked and held out her hand. "Come on, we're going to my flat."

Sam stared at her in disbelief. He had caused the Apocalypse and she was _willingly_ showing him where she lived?

"Why?"

She gave a sigh and Sam was reminded that she really was as young as her (fake) drivers license suggested.

"To get you clean. To keep you safe. To give you some lovely potions which will knock you out and get you through the worst of the withdrawal if it comes knocking, and to wait for Dean to call."

"He's not gonna call."

"Of course he is." She said with the sort of optimism which came from _not_ being a Winchester. "So come on."

"'Mione?"

"Mmm."

"You stuck my feet to the ground."

"Ah."

* * *

Hermione's flat was small but clean and dry. It was raining in London and Sam stared out the window to the dreary street below.

"Are we really in England?" He asked, amazed.

She chuckled, filling the kettle.

"Obviously. We're about...ten minutes walk from Diagon Alley and half an hour from the Ministry, not that that'll mean much to you." She paused. "I haven't got a spare room but..."

"I can take the sofa." He assured her. "It's just...why did you bring me here?"

She leaned against the counter, fiddling with a loose thread on her sleeve.

"You wanted out, didn't you?"

He nodded.

"It's safe here, Sam. No one knows you, no hunters or demons or angels will come after you. You want to get your life back under control...do it here."

"What about Dean?"

Her lips curled into a small smile.

"Dean isn't my priority, Sam. You're my friend and you're hurting isn't that enough."

"Yeah, but shouldn't you be out there hunting?"

"He'll do fine without me." Brown eyes gleamed with amusement and Sam found himself smiling back at her. "Believe me, I'm more of a hindrance than I help. He'll be happy not to have me around for a while."

Sam scoffed.

"You really think that?"

"I know that."

The kettle whistled and she filled the large red teapot and busied herself with finding mugs and milk.

"Is it you in these pictures?"

She filled the mugs and crossed the room, passing him the green one. He was looking at the photographs on the mantel piece and she smiled fondly.

"That's me. The first one," She pointed to a picture of her and Harry in their first year at Hogwarts. "is from when I was twelve and the boy is Harry."

"Cool scar." Sam murmured, sipping his tea.

"He wouldn't think so."

"And the others?"

"That's Ron and Harry in our third year." Sam whistled pointing at the next one and Hermione laughed. "That's Victor and I. We were attending the Yule Ball together." She smiled at his perplexed expression. "There was a big inter-school competition going on and there was a dance thing. I had a good time." She scowled, remembering. "Mostly."

"You look pretty."

She blushed.

"Thank you. Most people didn't recognise me, they were too used to...that." She gestured to the next picture along which showed Hermione in her sixth year almost hidden behind a veritable fortress of books. She was in her school uniform, but her tie was loosened, top button undone and robes tossed over the back of her chair. Her hair had frizzed up into a chaotic mess and there were ink smears across her nose. "Not my best look." She acknowledged.

"Who are they?" Sam asked, pointing to a photograph of three young men.

"That's..." She sighed. "That's the Marauders. The man with the glasses is Harry's father, James. I never met him, but everyone said he was a good man, if a bit arrogant. The other is Sirius Black..."

Sam frowned.

"I'm sure I know that name."

"You would. He was a mass murderer." She pointed out cheerfully. "All over the muggle news a few years ago. I was...fourteen?" she shrugged. "Nice man. And the man next to him is Remus Lupin. He was my Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher in my third year. Lovely man, very intelligent. You know that title Cas uses?"

"Brightest witch?"

She nodded.

"He coined it. Great man."

"Where is he now?"

"Dead. Died in the war." she pointed to the next photo. "That's Teddy, his son and Harry's godson."

"Why's he got blue hair?"

"He's a metamorphmagus. He can change his appearance at will, something he inherited from his mother."

She sighed staring at the last picture.

"And they...are Dumbledore's Army." She gave the picture a fond smile as the Weasley twins made faces from the back row. "When we were in our fifth year, Harry and I started a vigilante defence group to undermine the Ministry's control on Hogwarts. It was...a tough year that one."

"You were really close to your friends, weren't you?" Sam murmured.

"Were?" She paused and frowned. "No, you're right." She whispered, looking despondent. "I haven't seen them in months. There were invitations but I always seemed to be..." She glanced up at Sam suddenly. "busy."

They sat on the sofa and Sam studied her, taking in the now healed silver scar on her neck and the bags under her eyes.

"You gave up a lot to come and help us, didn't you?"

"Sam..."

"No, really Hermione. When was the last time you saw your friends? Or your boyfriend? When was the last time you two went on a date?"

Hermione refused to meet his eyes and just stared at her toes.

"Hell, when was the last time you had a damn holiday? You've spent every last minute since you joined us, working your heart out and I _failed _you! You've given us so much and..."

Hermione sighed and got to her feet, putting her empty mug in the sink.

"Just leave it, Sam. Please."

"Hermione, why won't you talk about this?"

"Because I don't fit in!" She shrieked, whirling to face him. "Everyone got _better_! After that war. Yes, they grieved and yes, they hurt but they all got _better_! I wasn't built to be a soldier, Sam, but I've got blood on my hands I can't ever scrub out."

Sam stared at her, shocked.

"So that's why you're helping us? Penance?"

"What?" She looked distressed and she raked her hands through her hair. "No. No, of course not. I help you because you two mean a lot to me."

"Cas blackmailed you into helping us." Sam pointed out calmly.

"Yes, he did." She scrubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands. "Sam, please...can we just leave this be?" Hermione begged.

"Hermione..."

"I owe you and your brother more than you can ever know." She told him solemnly. "The two of you have saved me in ways I didn't know I needed." Hermione faked a smile. "We've been through a lot today." She summoned a pile of bedding and tossed it to him. "Here. I'm going to bed. You can have the shower after me." She strode off leaving Sam standing confused in her living room.

* * *

"Jessica!"

Sam woke in the middle of a night reaching for a girlfriend who's been gone for a long time. A loud scream rent the air and Sam sprung to his feet, pulling his knife from under his pillow. He leapt over the sofa, and raced up the hall, crashing through Hermione's bedroom door. Hermione was screaming in her sleep, loud, agonising screams which reverberated around her room. Sam grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. She awoke instantly, eyes dark and dangerous. The older hunter found himself pinned to the bed with magic, an angel blade and wand crossed over his throat. Far too late, Sam remembered what his brother had told him about waking Hermione.

Don't.

"'Mione!" He croaked, freezing.

She blinked.

"Sam?"

"Yeah."

Her face slackened and she dropped her weapons, shock crossing her face. Hermione scrambled back so she was pressed against the headboard.

"I'm sorry." She panted as though she'd been running. "Oh, Merlin. I'm sorry, Sam. So, so sorry!" She choked and tucked her head down into her hands.

"Hey, it's okay." Cautiously, he reached out and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her into a hug. "It's okay." Sam smoothed a hand down her back, grounding himself in her presence. "It's okay." He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince.

Eventually, Hermione stopped shivering and he let her go.

"What were you dreaming about?" He asked carefully. "The war?"

She gave a broken laugh and wiped her nose on her knee.

"The war. Demons. Hunts. Monsters. It's all very much mixed, Sam." She glanced up at him, wincing. "Did I wake you?"

"No." He sighed. "I was having a bad dream."

"About?"

"Jessica." She frowned and Sam smiled slightly. "You never heard about her? She was my college girlfriend. Gorgeous, funny, kind...Amazing." He whispered. "And then Dean dragged me out to find Dad and we came home and she was dead. Demon attack."

Hermione rested her head against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Sam."

Sam shrugged.

"She's in heaven. I got Dean to ask Cas, so that's something." He gave a pained smile. "I haven't dreamt about her in a while and this one was just so...real."

Hermione nodded in understand and they sat there in the dark for a while.

"Is that why Dean sleeps next to you?"

Hermione stiffened and pulled away from him.

"What do you mean?"

"The nightmares." Sam laughed. "I think I'd have noticed if you'd woken up screaming every night. Dean stops them, doesn't he?"

She looked away.

"I think it's just having someone else on guard, that's all."

"Do you still have nightmares when you're with Ron?"

She flinched and Sam paused.

"You have...you know?"

"Sam..." She groaned. "I'm not going to discuss my love life with you."

He stared at her, eyebrow raised and she hid her head in her hands.

"I don't..." Sam could almost hear her blushing. _"_We're..._together,_ but I don't stay the night, if you know what I mean."

"Why not? I thought girls didn't do sneaking away...afterwards."

Her fingers parted enough for one brown eye to glare at him.

"I don't _sneak_." She snapped.

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Then what is it?"

She mumbled something that Sam didn't catch, so he reached out and tugged her hands away from her face.

"Tell me?" He begged, pouting.

She sighed.

"What do I do, Sam, if Ron doesn't keep the nightmares away? I care about Ronald, a lot and...I don't know what I'd have to do then."

Sam dropped her hands, frowning.

"You've got no idea, do you?"

Hermione stared at him, perplexed.

"No idea about what?"

He smiled at her.

"Nothing. Have you got work tomorrow?"

Hermione nodded.

"We'd better get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

She nodded and he left her to sleep.

* * *

Something Sam had never realised about Hermione was how damn early she got up. She was in her shower at six o clock, dressed by half past and reviewing files over breakfast by seven.

"What're you working on?" Sam yawned and accepted the mug of coffee she pointed to with a quill.

"Hunting proposals." Hermione murmured. "Some purebloods want to permission to go hunting in the dragon sanctuaries."

"What are you going to say?"

Hermione smirked.

"I'm going to say no. And then I'm going to write a letter to Charlie Weasley, who runs the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary and ask for extra wardens to patrol. Then I'm going to write to the English Sanctuary and ask them to release the Horntail."

Sam gaped at her.

"Dragons?" He managed weakly.

"Mmm. Pretty much what you'd imagine. Fire, wings... Fairly standard stuff."

"And you're releasing one?"

"They can't leave the sanctuary." She promised, nibbling at her toast. "But when these morons decide to disregard my refusal, and I know they will, instead of coming up against a fairly tame Welsh Green, they'll meet one of the most dangerous dragons out there, be scared out of their wits, possibly barbecued and then charged with trespassing!" She grinned at his stunned expression. "My job is to protect these creatures and I am _very_ good at it."

Sam snorted and sipped at his coffee as she scratched away with her quill.

"What are you going to do today? I'll be home at about six-ish." She bit her lip and scratched something out with her quill. "We could go out for dinner."

"Where?"

"Somewhere muggle," She murmured, still focused on her work. "I don't really feel like getting stopped today."

Sam nodded, looking around her flat.

"Can I read your books?" He asked. His eye caught on a newer volume with gold lettering which had been shoved haphazardly into an already overflowing bookcase.

"Sure."

Sam got the feeling that she wasn't really listening to him. It was probably how Dean felt when they vanished into research.

"Try and get some rest." Hermione began to gather up her files, leaving her toast half eaten. She tugged her robes on top of her suit and slipped the angel blade into her pocket.

"What do I do if someone calls?"

"Calls?" She frowned at him. "Don't answer the fire." Her eyes closed for a second and she winced. "You were talking about the phone, weren't you?"

Sam nodded and Hermione juggled her files to pull out her wand. She muttered something under her breath and a spell shot at the fireplace. Evidently satisfied, she turned back to him.

"I don't have a land line. They don't like the magic. Have a good day." She disapparated and Sam waited until he was sure she was gone before he made a beeline for the book that had caught his eye.

He settled back on the sofa, a mug of coffee in one hand, "_Hermione Granger-The Witch Who Won_" balanced on his knees.

* * *

They had a quiet night that evening, Sam having hid her biography under the sofa so she wouldn't know he was reading it. They ordered in and sat at the table eating fish and chips, something Hermione swore American's couldn't get right. They had both slept as well as could be expected, with a minimum of one nightmare each and got up early the next morning when the door bell rang. Hermione banished Sam to her bedroom while she went to open the door, wrapping her dressing gown over her pyjamas.

She opened the door slowly and then gaped at the bizarre sight greeting her.

"Luna?" she managed, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

The blonde nodded and somehow managed to flit through the gap between the door and the frame and hugged Hermione tightly.

"It is lovely to see you, Hermione."

Sighing, Hermione hugged her friend back.

"Hello, Luna."

The tiny witch beamed at her. She was dressed in a Victorian walking dress, with a top hat and goggles perched on top of her head. Her hair streamed down her back and glittered as she moved. "You look well." Hermione managed.

"You do not." Luna told her, quite serious. "How are your hands?"

Confused Hermione glanced at her hands.

"Um...fine?"

Luna sighed and wandered off, trailing glitter behind her.

"I'm here to help, 'Mimi. Now, where is he?"

"Who?" Hermione noticed where Luna was headed and her eyes widened. "Luna! No!"

Lune vanished into her bedroom and Hermione jogged after her.

"Hermione, you didn't tell me you had a brother?"

Hermione met Sam's eyes over Luna's head and sighed.

"Sam Winchester, meet _Luna_." She scowled at the back of the witch's head and Sam smirked slightly. "Luna, Sam's a _friend_ of mine who's staying with me for a while."

Luna nodded.

"I know."

Hermione drew in a long suffering sigh.

"How?" She asked.

"The Nargel's told me." Luna beamed at both of them. "We are going to show Sam, Diagon Alley."

"Luna, you know I don't like going out there." Hermione begged.

She was faced with a beaming expression and sighed.

"Fine." She muttered, "But I'm changing my hair. Get dressed, Sam. We're going on a tour."

Hermione knew better that to leave Luna alone in her flat so she got dressed as quickly as possible, sticking to muggle clothing. Luna pushed her into a chair as soon as she emerged, already twirling her wand.

"How has the war been?" She asked as she straightened Hermione's hair.

Hermione jerked and was jabbed with a wand for her troubles.

"How can you possibly know about that?" Hermione whispered.

Luna hummed.

"It's never over." she murmured. "Not really."

Hermione watched as the brown was bleached from her hair, dripping from the tips to the floor where it vanished.

"Eyes." Luna ordered. Hermione held her eyes open without blinking and allowed the other witch to apply the glamour charm.

"Whoa!" They turned to Sam, who was tugging his coat on. "'Mione?"

Hermione glanced in her mirror. With long straight blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes she looked more like Luna's sister than anything else. Sam dug out his phone and snapped a picture.

"Really?" She snapped.

"It's funny."

Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed her weapons and keys. She caught Luna staring at the angel blade.

"What?"

"What's his name?"

Hermione glanced down guiltily, glad Sam wasn't listening.

"Simiel." She murmured.

Luna nodded and dragged both of them out the door.

* * *

Diagon Alley was like nothing Sam had ever imagined. It was bright and colourful, filled with sights and smells he didn't quite believe. Luna acted as their tour guide, showing Sam every corner and shop. Hermione trailed after them, spending most of her time hiding behind Sam. He didn't understand her hesitation until they reached the biggest joke shop he'd ever seen.

"Luna..." She begged.

The blonde ignored her, actually resorting to dragging her across the threshold. Sam followed them, confused, into the shop. Decorated in wild clashing colours, it was full of customers and brimming with products. Sam wandered, Hermione at his elbow, examining products.

"Does this stuff work?" He asked in a mutter.

"Does my ear hear a sceptic?"

Hermione froze as a red haired man Sam recognised from the picture on her mantle piece swooped down on them and began squaring up to him.  
"Listen to me, you over grown marrow, all our products are one hundred percent..." The flamboyant man trailed off. "Hermione?"

Hermione winced and looked up.

"Hello George." She whispered.

George stared at her in something between shock and horror.

"What the hell happened to you?" He demanded. Sam tensed to step between them, but Hermione rested a hand on his arm.

"George...don't."

"You look awful. Had Mum seen you looking like this?" He frowned. "And what's with the glamour charm? And the scars! Did someone bite you?"

"Didn't want to be recognised." Hermione muttered. "And works been a bit dangerous, we had a pixie infestation in Cornwall recently."

George frowned.

"Huh. Who's the marrow?" He asked, jerking a thumb at Sam.

"My cousin. Sam, meet George Weasley, Ron's big brother."

Sam felt a twinge of guilt when he heard her lie to her friend. Lying was second nature to a hunter and it was something she'd picked up from him. She'd used to be awful.

"One of Ron's many big brothers." George jerked his head to the back of the shop. "Come on. I don't like the blonde by the way. You'd look much better as a ginger."

Sam noticed Hermione's fists clench, but followed her and George to the back of the shop and through a small door.

"Have you been looking after yourself?" George demanded. He turned to Sam. "Has she been looking after herself?"

"George Weasley!" Hermione snapped. "I am perfectly capable of looking after myself, thank you very much."

The red head winced.

"I didn't mean it like that, 'Mione. It's just I've been worried about you. We've barely seen you in months. I know you've been busy at work but still...that job's killing you."

Sam flinched and Hermione sighed as George removed the glamour charms, blond strands twirling into brown curls.

"Much better." he announced. "Mum'll want you to come around for dinner tomorrow night. You can ever bring the marrow."

Sam groaned.

"I have a name." He snapped.

"I don't care." George turned back to Hermione and Sam caught a glimpse of the blackened hole on the side of his head where there should have been an ear.

"If I'm not busy, I'll do my best." Hermione hitched a smile on her face. "I'm sorry, George. Really, I am, but things have been getting on top of me lately and..."  
George reached out to brush her hair away from her face and Hermione flinched, stepping back into Sam.

"Still..?" George questioned quietly.

Hermione didn't answer, drawing her hood over her head to hide her hair.

"We need to go find Luna. It was lovely seeing you. Come on, Sam. I'll show you the book shop."

* * *

Luna came back the next day and took Sam out to see muggle London, because, and he was quoting "_Hermione needed to visit some faeries." _Hermione later told him she'd been to see Harry.

"I need you to teach me to use this." She demanded that afternoon.

Sam gaped at her.

"You want me to teach you to knife fight, with an _angel_ blade?"

"Firstly, his name is Simiel. And secondly, I want to learn how to fight. I'm not good if I get to close to an opponent." Hermione's brown eyes were serious and he sighed.

"You named your angel blade?" Sam frowned.

"No. This is Simiel. Castiel explained it to me. This is the last remnant of Simiel's grace. It _is_ Simiel. And I need to know how to fight."

"Dean would be better..."

"Dean's not here." She insisted. "And you're just a good a hunter as he is."

Sam sighed. "All right then."

They pushed all the furniture back and when that didn't make much space, Hermione shrunk it. He started with basic punches and how to get out of various holds. She wasn't brilliant, which was partly because the physical side of things had never been her strong point and partly because Sam had no idea how to teach a girl to fight.

"It's different." He explained when they stopped for a break. "You don't have the same muscle mass behind you, or the same weight. A punch I could use, might break your hand. I'm gonna have to think about this." he added, frowning.

* * *

They settled into a routine. Hermione would get up in the morning and go to work, leaving Sam with her Library. He wandered around London and took in the sights. Occasionally he'd pick up food and attempt to cook Hermione something for dinner. He was...normal. Or as normal as he could be living with Hermione. No demons were after him, no one wanted to kill him. He made friends with Luna (who didn't appear to have anything better to do than talk to the man living on Hermione's sofa) and they spent a lot of time together discussing various magical creatures. She reminded Sam strongly of Castiel.

Still some nights were good, or as good as they could be...considering. Those were the nights when Sam didn't dream about Jess. The dreams were getting more regular and vivid and Sam often awoke full of guilt and remorse, having listened to his former girlfriend talk about the end of the world for a full half an hour. Tonight was one of those nights.

"I'm broken, Hermione."

She sighed and leant against his side, tucking herself under his arm. They were sitting against the sofa and this time it was Sam's nightmare which had woken her.

"We're all broken, Sam. The war, Hell, the Apocalypse. None of us are whole people on our own. That's why we've got each other. Me, you and Dean."

"I _drank_ demon blood."

She groaned.

"Oh, not this again." She muttered. "I _know,_ Sam. I haven't forgotten. But we're working past it and that's all that matters. We're family, Sam."

Sam chuckled and tugged her closer so they were leaning back against the sofa cushions.

"Family, huh?"

She grinned up at him.

"Yep. Like cousins or something. I know we're not as close as you and Dean, so..."

"Nah." Sam ruffled her hair, which made her scowl at him. "You're more like my sister than anything else."

"Well, that'll relieve my parents." She mumbled.

"Why?"

Hermione coughed.

"They think I'm having an affair with the big, strong man I have locked away in my flat."

"Oh...ew."

"Quite."

Sam paused.

"Can I meet them?" He asked cautiously.

"My parents?" Hermione considered the request, one side of her mouth tipping up in a smile. "I don't see why not."

* * *

Two nights later Hermione woke up to find Sam standing over her drenched in sweat.

"What's wrong?" She demanded, holding tight to Simiel.

"The dreams." Sam panted. His hair was almost standing on end and his eyes were wide and terrified. "They weren't nightmares. They were Lucifer."

Hermione paled.

"What?" She gasped.

He sat down heavily on the foot of her bed.

"He...He said I'm his vessel." Hermione blinked.

"Maybe you misunderstood." She whispered and flinched when he glared at her.

"I didn't misunderstand. He fucking spelled it out for me. If I die, he brings me back. If I say no, he's just going to keep waiting and...I am so damn tired of these bastards ruining my life!"

"Sam..."

"Why won't they leave me alone?" He begged, almost sobbing.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder.

No one slept that night.

* * *

"Dean?"

Sam waited for his brother to answer, chewing at his thumb nervously.

"Hey Sam." the words were cautious and confused.

"I...need to tell you something."

"Sam..."

"This is important." Sam drew in a deep breath and wished he'd waited until Hermione came home. "I'm Lucifer's vessel."

"Huh."

"Dean?" Sam's eyebrows shot up. "That's it? I just told you the Devil wants to wear me to the prom and you said _"huh"_?"

"What did you want me to say?"

Sam flinched at the cold tone in his brother's voice.

"I don't know..."

"Sam, I'm pretty much done as far as earth-shattering revelations are concerned."

"So, what are we going to do about it?" He asked hopefully.

"Nothing."

"What?" Sam sighed. "Dean, I want back in. I'm fed up with them ruining my life over and over again."

Dean snorted.

"Oh, great. Revenge. Because that worked so well last time."

Sam's jaw dropped.

"No. Redemption."

"So, what? You're just going to come here, help me find Hermione and we'll go back to being the three amigos?"

"I'm better, Dean..."

"You don't get it." his brother snapped. "We are literally the oil and fire of this damn apocalypse. On that grounds alone we should pick different hemispheres and _stay _there!"

"We can fight this." He begged. "Please, Dean..."

"We are gonna fight it. Alone. Whatever it is that holds us together is the same thing that keeps screwing us over. We're family and brothers and that makes us weaker, Sam. They are always going to use us against each other. We've got a better job of dodging Michael and Lucifer and this whole damn thing if we just stay away from each other."

"Dean..." He pleaded, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Bye, Sam."

* * *

**_A/N_**

**_Who knows what's coming next? TIME TRAVEL._**

**_Let me know what you thought of this. Reviews really do motivate me. _**

**_On a completely unrelated note...I'm going to comicon this weekend and I'm doing Gender Swapped Destiel cosplay with my friend, who is awesome by the way._**

**_I'm so excited!_**

**_Hood_**

**_P.S Also, does anyone know of any Dean/Hermione fanart, because I can't find none. _**

**_P.P.S Did anyone get here via Tumblr?_**


	10. The End

"Dammit Cas, let me sleep."

"It's not Cas."

Dean sat bolt upright in bed, clutching at the phone tightly.

"'Mione?"

"Dean." She acknowledged coolly.

He sagged and leaned back against his pillow.

"You okay? Where are you?"

"I'm fine and I'm at home. You?"

"Good, I'm...good."

There was silence for a moment before Hermione sighed.

"Dean..."

"No." He snapped.

"You have to forgive him at some point."

"Forgive him!" Dean's grip on the phone increased until it almost cracked. "Hermione, he started the damn Apocalypse, he chose a demon over his own brother. He drank demon blood _and_ he bit you!"

"And he's very sorry about that. Dean, he's your brother. Don't let this tear him away from you."

"Dammit, you could play Devil's advocate to Stalin, couldn't you?"

"Stalin, unlike your brother, probably _was_ evil, especially considering what he did to his own family." She trailed off. "Stop distracting me."

"But it's so fun."

Dean smirked as he listened to the silence of Hermione trying to work out what he meant.

"Right. Dean just...call him. Please. He's out at the moment but..."

"He's with you?"

"No, I just told you, he's out at the moment."

"Hermione..." Dean warned darkly.

"Don't you even think of trying that tone with me, Winchester. Living with Sam's puppy dog eyes is more than enough. He found this organic green grocers down the street and I swear if he brings back one more type of apple, I'm going to pelt him with it." She paused. "Or make toffee apples." She added thoughtfully before her tone darkened. "I don't suppose you want to explain why he's spent the last day wandering around my flat looking like a dog that got kicked in the face by its owner?"

"He'll be fine on his own."

There was a rush of static as Hermione swore under her breath.

"You don't make my job any easier, Winchester." She hissed.

"And what is that job of yours? Cas still won't tell me what your damn orders are."

"I doesn't concern you." she told him coldly. "It's not his fault. He's terrified that Lucifer is going to find him."

"Then he'd better not say yes." Dean snapped.

"You and I both know they have ways of making people agree to things." Hermione reminded him solemnly.

"'Mione, I need some sleep." Dean begged.

She sighed and her tone softened.

"All right. Just...think about it, at least? He misses you. We both do."

Dean grunted and he could almost hear the eye roll she gave in return.

"Get some rest, you Neanderthal."

"Night, 'Mione."

"Mmm."

* * *

Dean approached the threshold of the camp, praying that the photograph he'd seen at Bobby's had been correct. He'd only been in 2014 for few hours and since Zachariah wasn't answering his prayers, he had no choice but to find someone else to help him. Carefully, he clambered over the fence and shivered, his skin breaking out in goose bumps. Hermione didn't often put up wards when they stayed somewhere as they interfered with Sam's laptop, but Dean had been through them enough times to know what they felt like. And there was only one hunter he knew of who could use magic.

"'Mione." he murmured, starting forward.

Something smacked across the back of his head and he fell forward into the grass, instantly unconscious.

Dean Winchester lowered the stick, staring at his double in irritation. This was the last thing he needed right now.

* * *

Dean swam in and out of consciousness as his tired body tried to rouse him. People were talking nearby and the noise sent jolts of pain through his skull.

"I don't care about "_temporal energies_"" A man snapped close by. "I want to know how the hell he got through your wards."

A woman spoke up and she sounded worryingly familiar.

"The wards worked fine. They're keyed to you, after all. He is you! That's how he got in..."

"He's not me!"

Dean drifted off again, trying to put a name to that voice.

* * *

The second time he woke, his arm was bent uncomfortably over his head and handcuffed to a ladder. The bigger problem was his duplicate sitting at the table, sliding the magazine into a very large assault rifle.

"You want to tell me why I shouldn't shoot you?" Other Dean asked.

"You'd only be hurting yourself?" Dean joked nervously, tugging on the handcuffs.

"You're hilarious." Other Dean set the gun down on the table and scratched his nose. "When are you from?" He demanded.

Dean's eyes widened.

"How the hell did you know that?"

His future self sighed.

"Well, I had the world expert in Dean friggin' Winchester come and have a look at you and then I had to listen to a very long explanation about time travel. So, why don't you tell me when you're from and _how _you got here?"

"World expert...?" Dean shook his head. "Zachariah. I'm you, from about 2009. He snatched me from my bed and dropped me here."

"Where is he?" Other Dean demanded.

"I don't know."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes!" Dean sighed. "I just want to get back to my own damn time and get some sleep!"

He took a closer look at his future self. The other Dean stood the same, but had deeper shadows under his eyes. He looked older and rougher and if the world was as fucked up as Zachariah said it was then he had every reason to.

"So what, Zach zapped you up here to see what happens?"

He shrugged.

"I guess. That's their endgame, right? The Croatoan virus?"

"Yeah. It's efficient, incurable and scary as hell. Turn people into monsters." Other Dean began adding weaponry to his duffle bag. "Started hitting the major cities a few years ago. World kinda fell apart after that."

"What about Sam?"

Other Dean stilled.

"Heavyweight showdown in Detroit. Sam wanted back in the game and he'd been hunting up there. For what she...I've been told, Sam didn't make it out."

For a second Dean just stared at him in shock.

"We weren't with him?"

"No..." He looked away. "Me and Sam haven't talked in...hell, five years."

Dean swallowed, sick at the thought of his brother dying alone without him there.

"We never tried to find him?" He managed.

"_We_, have other people to look after now." Future Dean scooped up the bag and turned to leave. "I've gotta run an errand."

"And you're just going to leave me here?"

"Yes. I've got a camp of trigger happy hunters out there who do not need to see some weird ass version of the "Parent Trap.""

"You don't have to cuff me!" He protested.

"Yes. I do." Other Dean left muttering something that sounded like, "How the hell does she put up with me?"

"Dick." Dean decided and began working on his cuffs.

* * *

Escaping the cabin was surprisingly easy. Getting across the camp...less so.

"Hey, Dean."

"Uh, hi Chuck." Dean cut across the Prophet. "Listen, I don't suppose you know where Cas is, do you?"

Chuck stared at him.

"Uh, yeah. In his cabin. You okay?"

Dean nodded slowly and headed in the direction Chuck had indicated as quickly as possible. Castiel's cabin, (And since when did an angel need a cabin?) was set on the outskirts of the camp. There was a bead curtain hanging across the doorway and what looked like mangled dream catchers hung every few feet, festooned with everything from broken glass to feathers. Dean pushed through the curtain and stepped into the cabin. The air was warm and heavy and filled with strange scent that Dean suspected he didn't want to identify. An angel lay fallen in the centre of the room, arms outstretched and a strangely haunted smile on his face. Castiel's hair had grown and it curled around his face and several days worth of stubble cover his chin. One of those electric blue eyes snapped open when Dean moved further into the room and glared at him.

"She was right." The angel murmured, and the eye closed as he gave a soft, mocking laugh. "She always is, don't know why I was surprised."

"Cas?" Dean demanded, because he needed the confirmation that this really was the same stuck-up angel he left in 2009. "What...the hell?"

"What year?" Castiel demanded and made no move to get off the floor. He was shirtless and in the dim light Dean can see a network of tattoos. There's an anti-possession under his collar bone, a string of what looks like Enochian across his hip and a small crescent moon above his heart.

"2009."

"So you are unenlightened." Castiel's eyelids flicker and Dean gets the impression the angel is rolling his eyes. "Wonderful."

"Yeah, it's great. Listen, can you take me back? Strap on your angel wings?"

Castiel vaults to his feet in one smooth movement and glares at Dean, eyes wide open.

"Trust me, I'd love to put on my wings as you call it, but uh...no dice for the ex-angel." His voice is rough and his breath is tinged with the same sweet scent as the room. He turned away and Dean saw his last tattoo, a large pair of wings folded neatly against his back. The feathers twitch as he moves and rearrange themselves more comfortably against his skin. Dean stared at them in shock, before rubbing his eyes and focusing on something else.

"Why not?" Dean frowned. "Are you high?" He added, confused.

"Generally, yeah." Castiel rubbed at the moon tattoo and sighed, a shadow crossing his face.

"What happened to you?" Dean asked carefully.

"Life." the angel gave him a dreamy smile. "Far too much of it."

* * *

Dean settled back against the wall, ignoring the glare his future self shot him. Apparently he was pissed about finding himself outside of the cabin. On the other side of the wooden walls, someone hummed, too quietly for Dean to make out the tune.

"If I tell you something will you shut up?" Other Dean begged.

Smug, Dean nodded.

"Who's still alive?"

"That you know...? Cas. Chuck..." Other Dean squinted at the wall. "Huh."

"What?"

"All my friends are dead."

Dean ignored that.

"What happened to Cas?"

Future Dean sighed, sitting down in the nearest chair and topping up Dean's glass of whiskey.

"He wasn't so bad, after he lost his powers. He had someone and she kept him afloat. But he lost her not long ago and he's just gone downhill from there."

"And the tattoos?"

Other Dean shrugged.

"His choice. They're important to him and everyone's got anti-possession ones anyway."

"Those wings _moved_."

"They're..." He cast around for the right word. "Magical tattoos. Apparently they move just like his old one did. I dunno, I never saw the damn things myself."

"So Sam's..." They both winced. "Not here." He finished. "And everyone else I knew is dead?"

Other Dean sighed.

"Pretty much, yeah."

"So whose the witch who did your wards, if it wasn't Hermione?"

Other Dean froze and now he knew what he looked like when he was trying to think of a lie.

"Oh, don't bother." Dean snapped. "I heard the two of you talking. Can I see her?"

"NO!"

They stared each other for a moment, before Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Jeeze, overreact much?"

"Oh, shut it."

"She okay?"

"Mostly, yeah. Busy, ain't enough magic to go around and all that jazz."  
"Why the hell is she still here? Why not just go home?"

Other Dean scowled.

"Those sons of bitches closed their borders after the first big outbreak. Magically sealed themselves off from the rest of the world. No one goes in or out and I mean...they literally can't. They've created like this pocket universe of houses and towns and crap, all interconnected. She doesn't like talking about it. The point is that she was with me when it happened. Wasn't long after Sam...well yeah. She'd been lucky to get out of Detroit alive and now...She's stuck, like Cas. Slightly more powerful, but still...There were a bunch of 'em who'd been outside when the barrier closed but we lost most of them six months ago. 'Mione and Cas took it pretty hard."

The humming was louder now and Dean can finally make out the tune.

"_Hey Jude_? Seriously?"

Other Dean rolled his eyes and for a second looked like it wasn't the end of the world as he smiled fondly.

"It's the only thing that gets the baby to sleep."

Dean stared at him.

"You have a kid here?"

"Safest place for 'im." There's something mulish in his expression as though he'd had an argument on this subject several times.

"Yeah? At the camp with the high ex-angel, the guns and _Chuck_?"

Dean watched himself grind his teeth. Why hadn't he had a heart attack yet?

"His mom's pretty stubborn."

He can hear words now, coming through the walls of the adjoining cabin.

"_Teach us something please, whether we be old and grey or young with scabby knees..._"

"What the hell?"

Other Dean flushed.

"She doesn't...uh...know the words so she just uses those ones."

"_...stuff. Right now they're bare and full of air, dead flies and bits of fluff..._"

"That kid's gonna be seriously messed up. Who's the father?"

"Just one of the hunters." Not quite a lie, but pretty damn close. Dean could read his own face after all.

"_...Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy warty Hogwarts..._"

* * *

"Tell me how I change this?"

"No."

Dean gaped at his future self in shock as they waited for the various lieutenants to assemble.

"No?"

"No. You'll work it out for yourself and if you don't, remember to stock up on bandages. You're gonna need them."

"What? You want this to happen? You want the world to end?"

"No!" Other Dean snarled. "I don't. But there are some things I don't want to risk changing. Sometimes you take the good with the bad and be damn grateful for it, all right?"

Dean sighed, leaning back against a post.

"Why isn't Hermione coming?" He asked casually.

"What?"

"This big raid against Lucifer." Dean smirked. "You said it yourself, she's got more power than Cas does. Why ain't she going?"

"She's got different priorities." He avoided Dean's eyes, smoothing a map across the table. "The camps vulnerable without her magic..."

"No, that's not it." Dean sobered. "You're not coming back, are you? This ain't a plan, it's a damn suicide attempt! You're taking the easy way out!"

"Don't you dare!" Other Dean drew his knife and advanced. "Don't think you know a damn thing about me or my life, you son of a bitch. You don't know what I'm leaving behind. I've got my reasons for this, reasons you couldn't even get your head around." There was a knock at the door and Future Dean backed off. "So just shut your mouth. Hermione can't come. Not on this." He finished in a whisper.

* * *

"Don't doubt his motives." Castiel murmured.

Dean glanced over at him where he was leaning against the car, semi-automatic propped against one shoulder.

"Our fearless leader." The ex-angel smirked. "He has his reasons for what he does. I know there are some things he thinks you shouldn't see, but I've not been very good at following the rules recently." He grabbed Dean's shoulder and shoved him roughly, forcing him to turn. He followed Castiel's line of sight until he could see one of the other cabins which hadn't seemed to belong to anyone. For a moment nothing happened and then Dean, Other Dean, stepped out onto the porch. In the shadows Dean could just make out another figure, standing in the doorway.

"What..." He manages, but his future self turns and bends down, pressing his forehead against the shadowy figure. They're almost completely hidden behind Dean's body, but it looks like they're kissing.

He turned back to Castiel.

"Who?"

The smirking ex-angel ducked into his truck.

"Now, that'd be telling."

* * *

The rest of the day passed in a blur of gunfire and pain. Lucifer's taunts, made all the more vicious coming from Sam's lips, haunt him and he's only too pleased to be saved from Zachariah by Castiel.

* * *

She was having lunch with Ron when Sam called. Ron looked at the ringing phone with interest.

"I've got one of those." He told her. "Dunno how to use it. Harry promised to show me."

Hermione winced apologetically and answered the phone.

"Granger?"

"Dean called." For a second there's utter silence before the noise of the cafe begins to intrude again and Hermione breaths out.

"And...?" she whispered.

"He wants to meet up." Sam told her, sounding both excited and terrified.

Her eyes met Ron's over the table and she sighed.

"When?"

"Three hours or so?"

Hermione nodded.

"I'll be back in two." she hung up.

"Work?" Ron asked.

She nodded tiredly and tried to think of a lie that would get her out of the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

"Hey, Hermione?"

The witch turned when he tugged on her shoulder, allowing Sam and Castiel to draw off in front of them.

"What's wrong?" She asked gently.

"Nothing. It just uh..." He ruffled his hair and winced. "I feel kinda dumb for asking but, do you know what _"Hogwarts"_ means? I know the word from somewhere and I just..."

Hermione chuckled.

"You heard it from me, I suspect. Hogwarts was my school. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft, _don't_ _flinch,_ and Wizardry."

"Right..." Dean swallowed or tried to. His mouth had gone very dry. "Random thought but, did your school have a song?"

She gaped at him, eyes bright.

"Yes! Well, not exactly. There's no official tune so it's sung to whatever music comes to mind." She rolled her eyes. "You can imagine. Seven hundred people, all singing differently. Chaos." Hermione frowned at him. "Are you all right? You've gone very pale."

"Huh." Was all he said. She sighed and jogged to catch up with Sam.

Well, maybe, _maybe_, the future wasn't that bad.

* * *

**_This chapter is dedicated to Chris7100. Get well soon!_**

**_A/N I've been looking forward to that. Had it mostly written for months._**

**_Please let me know what you think of this chapter. It'd mean a lot to me and I'd like to know what you pick up on. _**

**_Special thanks to:_**

**_AmyRenee55, Shenandoah76209 (I will), RichelleD, Shandra23 (I hope your weekend was good), Chris7100, sakiy, angel897, BrightStar (Scotland), ChelsMels (You might) and punkredhead. _**

**_Hood_**


	11. Of Pie Making Matriarchs

Things were fairly quiet on the Apocalypse front, apart from the occasional god dressing up as Paris Hilton. It was nearing Christmas when they met the Cambion. He was a small child, with dark hair and terrifying powers, but more importantly, he was long gone.

"What are you two doing for Christmas?"

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance, both remembering the last time they'd celebrated Christmas. They were holed up in a bar, hiding from the brutal December weather and the Supernatural. Sam winced.

"Uh...nothing really."

"Did you do Christmas when you were little?"

"Nah." Dean winced, childhood pain long since hidden. "We were too busy."

Sam snorted, taking a long draft of his beer.

"How 'bout you?" Sam grinned at her. "Any big plans, Miss I-Actually-Have-A-Life?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Far too many." She smiled, rolling her glass between her palms. "Do angels celebrate Christmas?" She asked suddenly.

Dean frowned when they turned to him.

"How would I know?" He snapped.

"Cas is your angel." Sam teased. "You've got that whole...bond thing."

"Shut up."

Hermione grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder.

"I've got to go. Last day of work tomorrow."

"You gonna come by after that?" Sam asked, curious.

"If you need me." She said vaguely.

"Want me to walk you out?" Dean offered.

Hermione laughed.

"Deadly witch here, Dean. I think I'll be fine. Merry Christmas, you two."

Sam waited until she'd left, before he started snickering.

"What?" Dean demanded.

"Did you just offer to walk Hermione Granger to her car?"

"Can she even drive?" Dean diverted.

"No and that's so not the point. You like her."

"Course I like her. She's a great hunter."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Dean, two weeks ago she told you, you looked good in green and you went out and bought a green shirt. You're wearing it right now."

"Dunno what to tell you, Sammy. I just needed a new shirt."

"Riiiight." Sam rolled his eyes.

"How do you know she can't drive?" Dean demanded suddenly.

"She told me. We're friends. We talk, Dean. That's the whole point."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

* * *

Christmas Eve came and went without much notice from either of the Winchesters and Christmas morning dawned bright and bleary. Dean did the obligatory Christmas "_We've not died yet_" phone calls to Bobby and Ellen, whilst Sam managed to scrape together some sandwiches and they settled themselves in front of the TV, perfectly content to ignore the two missing people in their lives. They were halfway through a marathon of _Dr Sexy_, when the flap of wings alerted them to Castiel's arrival.

Dean groaned.

"It's Christmas, Cas. Can't we take one friggin' day off?"

"Oh, don't shoot the delivery angel." Came a voice from behind Castiel. Hermione stepped out and grinned at them. "Merry Christmas!"

Sam and Dean gaped at her. She was dressed in jeans and a thick cable knit jumper with an H embroidered on the front. A pair of antlers stuck out from her mess of hair, which was loose around her face. They had bells on them.

"I thought you were spending Christmas with your family." Dean managed, still staring.

Hermione, who'd been trying to wrestle a Santa hat onto Castiel's head and was complete unaffected by the angelic wrath promised in his glare, looked over her shoulder and smiled.

"I am spending Christmas with my family." She said simply and muttered a charm, forcing the hat over Castiel's ears. The angel scowled and sat down in a chair, muttering about "_paganism_".

"You look ridiculous." Sam spluttered as he tried not to laugh.

Hermione glared up at him.

"For that, you get to wear the antlers." She promised and climbed onto the bed so she could reach his head and transfer the headband to Sam. Once it had been stuck down with a sticking charm and she given him a hug, she clambered down and turned to Dean.

"Do I have a hat?" He asked warily.

"Wouldn't it ruin your hair?" She pointed out innocently.

Dean narrowed his eyes at her and she smirked.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked, flicking his hair and causing the bells to ring merrily.

"Well, I was with my parents all day, and I spent yesterday with Harry and I've promised to go to the Burrow for tomorrow afternoon. You lot are six hours behind, which makes my life much easier and means I get to spend today with you lot." She beamed as she rummaged in her bag. "All my family in under three days_ and_ I didn't have to go to the party Mum and Dad are attending this evening. Everyone wins!"

Dean just stared at her, completely confused. Hermione sighed.

"I. Have. Presents." She told him slowly.

"Oh."

Through sheer force of will, Hermione sat them all down and began hand out parcels.

"Cas, first."

She tossed a small dark blue parcel at the angel who stared at it in confusion. They all waited in silence.

"I don't understand." said Castiel, tipping his head to one side. The bobble on the end of his hat flopped over and swung merrily behind him.

"You open it." Sam told him gently. "It's a present."

Carefully, Castiel undid the sellotape, opening the present as slowly as possible. Dean, who'd never been very patient, almost vibrated in his seat as Castiel held up the small box of sweets.

"I had no idea what to get an angel, or...actually any of you. But I realised there must be a lot of tastes you've never come across, if you've never been on earth before, so I thought these might be a good fit." She chewed her lip nervously. "Try one." She urged.

Cautiously, Castiel slid one finger under the flap and shook out one bean. Hermione grinned when she recognised it and waited for the angel to eat it. Castiel chewed slowly, frowning.

"Grass." He pronounced.

"Yes." Hermione agreed cheerfully.

"Hang on," Sam asked, looking up from the box he'd been reading. "When these say "_every flavour_"..?"

"They mean _every_ flavour." Hermione shuddered. "I knew someone who got vomit once, put him off them for life." She passed Sam his parcel. "Here."

Sam tore the wrapping off and grinned.

"I knew you were interested so..."

Sam began to flick through the _Beginners Guide to Arithmancy._

"This is brilliant!"

"I thought you had to be one of your lot to do that magic stuff." Dean asked, peering over Sam's shoulder.

Hermione chuckled.

"_That_'s not magic. That's mathematics used to predict probabilities. He can do it."

"Dude, did you just cheer about doing maths?"

Sam pouted, clutching the book to his chest.

"It's interesting." He defended.

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Here." She passed him a green tupperware box, which was warm. "This is from me and..." Hermione sighed. "My mother."

Dean pulled the lid off and grinned.

"Pie!"

Hermione chuckled.

"Thought you'd like it. Now Castiel, can you do me a favour?" She passed his a wrapped bottle. "This is for Bobby."

The angel chewed thoughtfully before he vanished and then reappeared, like a flickering shadow.

Dean held up one hand.

"Wait for it..."

Sam's phone rung and he answered, switching to loud speaker.

"One of you idgits wanna tell me why that angel o' yours just gave me a parcel?"

"It's from Hermione." Sam told him, snickering.

There was the sound of ripping paper followed by some brief swearing.

"You been holdin' out on me, girl?"

Hermione laughed.

"I should warn you. It's a bit stronger than you're used to."

They waited and heard the clinking sound of glasses. They heard Bobby swallow, a pause and then a serious bout of coughing.

"...sparks!" Bobby gasped.

"There's a reason it's called Fire Whiskey." Hermione teased as Sam and Dean fell about laughing. "Merry Christmas, Bobby."

Sam hung up and then frowned.

"We...uh...haven't got anything for you." he mumbled, looking genuinely upset by this.

"I know." She said cheerfully. "But I've got the pleasure of your company which is all I need, really."

At that moment Castiel spat out a bean which evidently hadn't agreed with him. A normal human's reject food would have just fallen to the floor. But the angel's rejected bean flew across the room and embedded itself in the plaster of the wall. Hermione leaned over and peered at it.

"Earwax!" She announced.

* * *

"Uh...Dean?"

Dean frowned at his brother.

"What?"

"When's 'Mione coming back?"

"Soon, I guess. Does it matter?"

"Kinda. She didn't take the spell off and these antlers are still stuck to my head."_  
_

...

"OW!"

* * *

Dean insisted that they take Hermione out for New Year's Eve, which, under normal circumstances, would have proved difficult considering out wasn't really something the Winchesters did. They were perpetually "out". They didn't have an "in". Luckily, for Dean at least, Ellen called and told them she and Jo were in the vicinity and would they like to meet up. Seeing as they hadn't been offered a choice and Ellen just expected them to arrive, they agreed.

"I've had an idea!" Sam beamed.

Dean groaned.

"What, Sammy?"

"Hermione."

The witch turned to him, visibly amused.

"Yeah, Sam?"

"I was teaching you to fight, but you're a girl."

"I vaguely recall that being mentioned." Hermione murmured.

"Jo's a girl!"

"Well noticed." Jo snarked.

"How did you get a girlfriend in college?" Dean asked, amazed. "Seriously?"

Sam waved his hands and Dean left for the bathroom.

"Not the point. Can you teach Hermione to fight?" He asked Jo.

She shrugged.

"Sure, whatever."

Hermione frowned at the blonde as she wandered off to the bar.

"Why doesn't Jo like me?" She asked Sam, certain she wasn't imagining the cool welcome she'd been receiving from the other woman.

Sam choked.

"I think, she thinks you're after Dean."

Hermione frowned.

"That's ridiculous. Whatever gave her that idea?"

Sam, who'd been watching his brother watch Hermione all night, said nothing.

"They're important to you two, aren't they?" She pointed out.

Sam nodded.

"Ellen's been kinda like a mom to us. Not that we need one of course it's just...nice."

Hermione smiled in understanding and collected her drink.

"Well, then..."

"Where are you going?"

"To set the record straight."

Hermione ducked past a group of giggling teenagers and appeared behind Jo.

"I have a boyfriend." She said without any preamble.

Jo slammed her beer down on the bar, whirling to face her.

"_Don't_ sneak up on me like that." She pressed a hand to her chest and Hermione continued.

"I have a boyfriend, back home. His name is Ron."

Jo narrowed her eyes.

"Good for you...you're telling me this, why?"

"Sam thought you might be interested in knowing that I'm not after Dean."

Jo winced, her cheeks staining red.

"That obvious, huh?"

Hermione shrugged, taking a sip of her drink.

"I wouldn't know."

"Oh, come on! If Sam noticed then the whole damn world knows."

"Mm." Hermione slipped onto the barstool and smiled at the woman. "So would you be willing to teach me to fight?"

"You wanna get your ass whooped?"

"Please...you wouldn't stand a chance against me."

* * *

Dean frowned at the two women.

"What are they laughing about?" He asked his brother.

Sam smirked.

"Last I checked, it was you."

Dean paled and hid his head in his hands.

"This is not good, Sammy. Very, very not good."

* * *

**_A/N_**

**_I'm sorry this is so short and it's taken so long. I've had writers block and my chicken died this morning and it's been a bad day and..._**

**_Changing Channel's next._**

**_Who's looking forward to it?_**

**_Special thanks to ChelsMels for removing things from places. :)_**

**_Hood_**


	12. Changing Channels

"I dunno, Dean. Maybe we should bring Hermione in on this."

Dean glared at his brother.

"It's the Trickster. We can handle him. Besides," He slipped a knife into his pocket. "She's got work. Something about sprites, wasn't it?"

Sam smirked, leaning against a wall.

"Is this like last week where you wouldn't let me call her in to deal with the witch because you'd aged forty years? Or is it a genuine worry about her paycheck?"

Only because of Sam's greater height, did he managed to see the red spreading across the back of Dean's neck.

"Don't be dumb, Sammy. So, we find him, we ask if he wanna helps and then we gank him."

Sam clenched his teeth.

"We don't need to kill him, Dean!"

"Yeah, whatever."

* * *

Dean twisted against the bindings holding his feet to the set so he could see the door.

"Now what?" he snapped as they burst open.

Castiel and Hermione strode through in a cloud of smoke, Hermione making a beeline for Sam.

"Cas?" Dean barked.

"Is this another trick?" Sam asked worriedly.

"It's us." Hermione promised, tugging at the straps holding down Sam's feet. "What are you doing here?"

"Us?" Dean yelped. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you." Castiel snapped. "You've been missing for days."

"So get us the hell out of here!" Sam begged.

"Let's go." Hermione and Castiel reached for their hands and promptly fizzled out of existence in a burst of static.

"No, no, no...Mr Trickster no like pretty boy angels." The Japanese host smirked. "Or hunters."

* * *

Hermione was wandering through a grey fuzzy landscape. There were no distinguishable features, the only noise beside her footsteps was a gentle buzzing which never decreased or increased in volume as she walked.

"Well, ain't you a strange thing?"

Hermione spun on her heel to confront the man. Castiel had told her he suspected a Trickster when he'd brought her to America, but they'd been split up after finding Sam and Dean. She hadn't seen the angel since. In fact, the short stranger was the first person she'd seen in hours. Tricksters weren't something she had any experience with. Sam and Dean had never mentioned them and unless they'd genuinely forgotten, there'd been a good reason for it.

"Where am I?" She demanded, reaching for her wand. She paused, wanting to leave the element of surprise in her favour. Not that much seemed to be, at the moment. Instead, she drew Simiel out from her pocket, and squared her shoulders.

"TV land." He grinned brightly, circling her. "I'd explain but a dumb hunter like you probably wouldn't understand. This is one of those channels they don't turn on until seven. Kinda like my own Purgatory while I decide where to put you."

Hermione bristled at the insult.

"So I'm stuck in the American version of BBC 3." She snipped. "And Sam and Dean?"

"Those two bozos?" The Trickster tipped his head to one side. "Herpes commercial."

"And Castiel?" She asked carefully.

"Porn channel. Where'd you get the blade?"

She tightened her grip on it.

"The hard way."

Something in the Trickster's eyes hardened and he sniffed disdainfully.

Hermione straightened up, eyeing him carefully.

"Trickster." She acknowledged. He gave her a mocking salute and kept circling.

"Now why don't you tell me who you are?"

"Hermione Granger." She murmured, one hand reaching for her wand.

The Trickster frowned.

"Granger." he murmured. "Granger. I know that name..." His golden eyes sharpened. "Oh well, can't beat a classic, I guess." He snapped his fingers and vanished.

The grey fuzziness took on the consistency of fog and Hermione began to make out trees and shrubs. She was in a forest, complete with dirt floor and a dark, starless sky. In the distance wolves began to howl and she worried her lips with her teeth.

"He wouldn't." She whispered.

The howling got closer and she began to make out the sound of paws thundering across the ground.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" She yelled and ran for it.

* * *

Castiel flickered into existence, bloody and evidently very annoyed.

"Cas, you okay?"

The angel nodded.

"I'm fine. Hello Gabriel."

"Hey, bro. How's the search for Daddy going? Let me guess?" He grinned. "Awful."

Castiel glared at the Archangel and didn't answer.

"And Hermione!" Dean demanded.

Rolling his eyes, Gabriel snapped his fingers again and Hermione stumbled into view. She too was bleeding and covered in scratches, but otherwise still standing. Her wand was clenched loosely, in one hand, Simiel in the other. Gabriel cocked his head to the side, staring at her.

"I thought you were just another hunter." He grinned. "But, boy, oh boy, was I wrong!" Golden eyes jumped to Castiel, who flushed slightly. "Oh, come on, Castiel. You always were naïve but really, you fell for _that_ prophecy? I _knew,_ I knew that name. Hermione Granger, you little hell raiser! Quite literally, in fact."

Hermione crossed so she was standing at Dean's shoulder and accepted an arm from Sam, leaning heavily on it.

"What do you mean?" She asked carefully. Her legs were on the verge of trembling, it felt like she'd been running for hours. She probably had.

Gabriel's eyes danced with mischief.

"I was under orders, Gabriel." Castiel ground out, looking both sheepish and furious. "I did as I was commanded. It was the will of..."

"Oh, don't give me that load of bullcrap. Now, how did it go?" He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I don't remember the exact wording. Something about the Apocalypse and a task only a daughter of the earth could undertake. No, no. The Righteous Man and the Brightest Witch. That was it. So that makes _you,_ Hermione Granger of London, Gryffindor and war hero." Gabriel smirked. "Boy have you got a life ahead of you. Don't envy you. At all." He shuddered and his gaze fell on the brothers again. "You know what I want." He added darkly.

"Do we?" Dean snapped.

"You want us to play our roles." Sam said dully, "Let the angels win."

"I don't care about who wins!" Gabriel said crossly. "I just want it to be over."

"You're a coward." Dean realised, stepping forward. "You're too afraid to stand up to your brothers so you want us to take the easy way out."

"Hey, what you call the Apocalypse, I used to call Sunday dinner."

"You know what," Dean sighed. "I don't even care any more. 'Cos I've got my brother and my angel and my witch, and I'm leaving." He hit the fire alarm on the way out and left Gabriel behind them.

* * *

Hermione waited until she got out of the warehouse before she gave in, her legs collapsing under her.

"Woah." Sam, whose arm she'd been holding onto, stumbled and sat next to her in the dirt, Dean dropping into a crouch by his side. Castiel just stared down at them, looking more morose than usual.

"Where were you?" Dean asked quietly.

Hermione leaned back against the side of the building and sighed.

"Horror movie." She yawned. "I've been running for hours. You two?"

Sam shrugged.

"Everywhere I suppose. Just bad daytime TV mostly." Hermione nodded in understanding, rubbing her calves with her hands as she tried to get some feeling back into them.

"What about you, Cas?"

The angel went pink at Dean's question and tugged on his trench coat.

"Nowhere of import." He answered gruffly just as Hermione mouthed the word _porn_ to Sam, who began choking.

Dean helped them to their feet, casting wary glances back at the building.

"Come on. I don't like the idea of staying where he can find us."

* * *

Hermione stared up at the night sky, curled up in a thick cloak. She'd apparated, on one of her rare nights in England, to a field she and the boys had once camped in. It had been raining then and muddy, but now the sky was clear and the ground dry. In the distance she could see the lights of Lincoln, glowing against the sky.

"Gabriel, highest of all Archangels, I pray to thee that you might hear my call and lower yourself to answering it."

Lightening struck in front of her and she jumped, staring into the night with her wand at her side.

"I liked that." the voice carried in the night and she spun to meet it. "Nice. Grovelling, always a good idea."

"I just want to talk." she said warily.

Gabriel snorted.

"Yeah, and the last time someone wanted to _talk_ to me, they ended up trapped in TV land and I ended up trapped in Holy Oil." He grimaced. "Not such a good time for me. So, bye."

"WAIT!"

Gabriel paused, one hand raised to snap his fingers. Hermione stepped forward.

"I want to know about the prophecy." She said calmly, keeping his gaze. "I want to know what I'm supposed to do. It's got nothing to do with the boys or the Apocalypse."

Gabriel snapped his fingers, but instead of vanishing, he summoned two chairs.

"Have a seat."

Hermione did so gingerly, half expecting the chair to develop teeth and swallow her. Gabriel sat on the other and watched her, golden eyes reflecting a light that wasn't there.

"Well, you're right about that." Gabriel shrugged. "Ain't about the Apocalypse. But I can't tell you what the prophecy _is_ about and I'm gonna assume baby bro gave you a watered down version which was so vague you're stuck helping the bozos for the rest of your life?"

She nodded and rummaged in her pocket, producing a brown paper bag, which she held out to him teasingly.

"Sugar Quill?" Hermione offered innocently.

Looking rather confused, Gabriel dipped his hand into the bag and drew out a single white feather, which dropped flecks of icing sugar onto his lap. Hermione took another and began to chew on it contentedly.

"I'm not an idiot." She pointed out, as he very cautiously licked one side of his quill. "These things always go a bit better if you have some form of common ground. Sam told me you liked sweets so I thought this might work. I bring blood pops to vampire meetings, goes down a treat. Same with werewolves and chocolate, poor souls. So Prophecy?"

Gabriel, still frowning and with a sugar quill hanging out of one side of his mouth, nodded.

"I ain't telling you nothing." He sucked on the quill for a bit. "I'd genuinely like to help you, considering you haven't tried to kill me yet, but...uh. I can't. Sorry, but interfering in Dad's little experiments kinda goes against the conditioning."

Hermione sighed and nodded. She'd expected something like this.

"What can you tell me?" She asked instead.

"You ain't normal, are you?" Gabriel decided.

She snorted.

"I've been told." He was eyeing the paper bag with interest, so she tossed it over to him. "But still..."

"You really wanna know?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and waved a hand at him.

"Obviously."

Gabriel smirked, paper bag safely tucked in one hand.

"Then ask Castiel where he got his orders from. Because it weren't from Michael and none of his commanders have that much independent thought. Trust me, the last thing my brother would want is _your_ particular destiny in play." He winked and vanished, taking the chairs with him. Hermione fell to the ground in a heap and bruised her backside on a rock.

"Bloody Archangels."

* * *

**_A/N_**

**_I've had that one written since...well since I started this story...about a year ago. _**

**_So I hope you like it. Gabriel will pop up again. _**

**_Thanks to everyone who offered condolences. And her name was Spock, for those who asked. _**

**_Hood_**


	13. Abandon All Hope

"Hermione?"

The staggering witch giggled before she pitched over completely and landed face down on Dean's bed. Before he could ask another question his phone rang and Dean snatched it up, scowling.

"Winchester."

"Hey, Dean. It's Ellen."

"Er...hi?"

Ellen snorted.

"I just wanted to check Hermione got home all right. She and Jo were out drinking and Jo's unconscious. Hermione vanished before I could stop her."

"Yeah, she's here." Dean smirked as she started to snore. "How much has she hand to drink?" He asked curiously.

"Hell, if I know. Damn girls weren't in much shape to tell me."

Ellen hung up and Dean tugged Hermione's shoes off before he tucked her in properly.

* * *

Dean grinned brightly as Hermione roused, blinking at him blearily.

"Morning Princess!" He shouted. Sam had already gone out to get coffee, although he had taken a picture of the sleeping witch.

Hermione shot upright in bed and clapped a hand over his mouth. She stared at him for a full minute before her pupils contracted and she focused her attention on him. Her expression slowly melted into one of horror.

"Oh, Merlin. Not _you_." She flopped back onto the bed and covered her head with the pillow.

Dean laughed.

"Go away."

He couldn't stop the snicker that time.

"I'd love to, sweetheart, but you're in my bed."

The pillow lifted slightly and one brown eye stared at him.

"Where am I?"

"Pennsylvania."

"Ah."

"You wanna tell me what happened?"

Hermione groaned.

"Jo. She wanted to go out after we sparred. There was alcohol and..._someone's_ abs, I can't remember and more alcohol and singing and then she passed out and I took her home and Ellen yells _really_ loudly..." she trailed off, rubbing at her head.

"You two friends now?"

"Pretty much."

"Ellen called to check you got here." He snickered. "Where were you aiming for?"

"Home." She curled up on her side wrapping the duvet around her and staring at him with bleary eyes. "It was fifty fifty between England and the Impala." She yawned and Dean realised she wasn't truly awake. "Night Dean."

* * *

"And we're guaranteed that this will work?" Hermione asked again.

Dean shrugged.

"It's the best plan we got."

"Still..."

"You got a better suggestion?" He snapped, losing his temper.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

"No." She murmured.

Sam rubbed her shoulder with his hand as he passed. He'd been pacing the room as they'd talked, large feet making loud thumps on the carpet.

"So, Cas has been following this demon, Crowley?" Dean nodded wearily and Sam dragged a hand through his hair, looking stressed. "And we're going to waltz in there and ask him to give us the Colt?"

"No, you're going to _make_ him give it to us." Bobby smacked an almanac off the table. "Stop pacing, boy!"

Sam glared at him resentfully and sat on the edge of Bobby's desk.

"The question is..." Hermione pointed out. "How're we going to get in?"

Dean had made the executive decision, not to tell the Harvelle's about Hermione's...interesting hobby. Hermione hadn't understood his reasoning, but went along with it anyway. So for now they were stuck with strictly muggle means of hunting. Or as muggle as it got with an angel on board.

Jo chuckled, leaning back against the wall.

"That won't be a problem."

* * *

Hermione crept through the shadows, one eye on the blonde who was approaching the gates. A slight smile crossed her face, despite the seriousness of the situation. Ellen, furious that her daughter was being used a bait, had demanded to know why Hermione couldn't tempt the demons out instead. Dean had stood there, mouth gaping for a full minute while he tried to think of an answer that wouldn't insult any of the women who happened to be in hearing range. Eventually Jo took pity on him and told her mother she'd volunteered. But it had been the first thing to make Sam smile all day.

Sam gave the signal and Hermione clambered silently over the fence. Her wand was safely in its arm holster, so she drew Simiel, who'd been strapped to her thigh, instead. She waited until Sam and Dean had vaulted over the gate before she approached the demons harassing Jo. The blonde shoved the demon who'd grabbed her, backwards and Hermione drove the blade into his heart. To her left Dean dispatched the other demon with Ruby's knife, dropping the body to the floor silently.

"Five minutes." Sam ordered, tossing Jo the tool bag. Jo rolled her eyes and took out a heavy pair of pliers.

"Just go already." She goaded. Dean nodded once and set off for the main house.

It was a large mansion and although Hermione couldn't see them, she could feel the Enochian sidgils covering the walls.

"You wanna get this?" Dean asked, gesturing to the door.

"I am so unappreciated." Hermione mumbled, waving her hand over the lock and feeling the familiar spell unlock it.

Sam tugged the door open and they headed upstairs for the office, making as little noise as possible. Hermione tugged up the rug as Sam and Dean searched the room. The Devil's Trap was second nature now and she drew it as quickly as possible, before smoothing the rug down flat. Sam tugged up the next rug slightly, so it looked as though it had been disturbed and the lights went out. Hermione slipped into the shadows behind the door, Simiel held tightly in her hand, as Sam and Dean drew their shotguns. Quiet footsteps could be heard, heading up the stairs to the office. Hermione held her breath as a dark figure almost skipped into the room.

"It's Crowley, right?" Sam asked.

The figure stopped, rocking on his heels.

"So," He sounded smug. "The Hardy Boys finally found me. Took you long enough." He stepped forward and Hermione waited until he'd crossed onto the first rug, before she stepped out from behind the door. Crowley paused, staring at where Sam had moved the second rug.

He crouched down and flipped in over.

"Do you have any idea how much this rug costs?" He grumbled. Crowley snapped his fingers and summoned two demons, who grabbed the brothers from behind, pulling their arms back and forcing them to drop their weapons.

"Let us go." Dean snapped.

"Or what?" Crowley scoffed.

"Or she'll stick her angel blade in your neck?" Sam offered, grinning.

Hermione moved and tucked Simiel under his throat, pressing it tightly to his skin. The demon froze.

"Miss Granger, I presume?"

Hermione glanced at Dean over the demons shoulder, eyes wide. He shouldn't have known her name.

Crowley sighed.

"I don't want to find out how blade happy this one is, so we'll cut right to the chase. You want the Colt, don't you? Get the littlest witch here to back off and we can talk."

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance before nodding to Hermione, who took a neat step backwards and tried to hide her shaking hands by tightening her grip on the blade. As soon as she was clear Crowley reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun. It was black, with a long barrel and a six round magazine. He lifted it and aimed straight at Dean. "This is it, isn't it?"

Hermione pressed the tip of her angel blade into his back. The demon gave a long suffering sigh and shifted his aim, firing two shots into the skulls of his demons.

"We need to talk." He snapped. "In private."

He turned to leave, only to walk into the side of the trap. His jaw clenched and he glared at them. "If you've damaged any more of my rugs, I will start charging you."

"This is private enough." Dean decided, picking up his shotgun. "Talk."

"You Winchesters are so uncouth." He sighed. "I hope you haven't been passing on your bad manners to this nice young lady."

Hermione remained silent, angel blade still raised.

"I've got to say, I'm somewhat glad to see she's with you. At least someone will have some sense out of the three of you."

Sam and Dean walked around the rug to stand at Hermione's shoulders.

"Do you know how deep I could have buried this thing?" Crowley demanded. "There's no reason you should even have heard this existed at all. Except that I told you."

"You told us?"

"You want Lucifer dead." Hermione blurted.

The three men looked at her.

"See?" Crowley pointed. "Sense. Well done, love."

She explained for Dean's benefit as the demon pouted.

"We should never have found out where that gun was. The only reason we know is because someone made sure we did. Either he wants Lucifer gone, or he was trying to tempt you out into the open."

"And you didn't think to mention this earlier?"  
"I only just realised." She muttered.

Dean sighed and nodded.

"Why would you want the Devil dead?" he asked the demon.

Crowley tucked the Colt back into his pocket, face twisting into a grimace.

"It's _called_ survival. Not that I'd expect a pair of "_won't stay dead_" Winchesters to understand." Sam glared at him and he sighed. "I forgot I was talking to a pair of functioning morons. So I'll address the adult in the room. Miss Granger, as you are aware Lucifer is an angel. An angel who hates humans."

Hermione gave a faint smile.

"And, to an angel, there's only one thing worse than a human." She finished.

"Exactly!"

"But Lucifer created you?" Sam interrupted.

Crowley waved that away.

"We were a means to an end. He needed servants, cannon fodder that was loyal to his every whim. If he manages to wipe the humans from the face of the earth, who do you thinks going to be next on the extermination list? Hmm?"

"You want us to kill the Devil for you?" Dean asked doubtfully.

Crowley nodded.

"We could go back to a time when things were easier. When we took souls and you tried in vain to stop us. No Apocalypse, no angels, no...prophecies." Crowley smirked when Hermione jerked. "I'm a salesman, not a warrior and certainly not some Archangel's doormat. So what do you say?" He offered the Colt to Sam, grip first. "You go kill Lucifer?"

Slowly, Sam reached out to take it.

"Okay."

The demon grinned.

"Great."

Hermione sighed as Sam raised the Colt and attempted to fire, the loud click echoing embarrassingly.

"He knew we were coming, Sam." She chided gently.

Crowley nodded.

"You'll probably want some bullets." He mused.

"What if we lose?" Dean demanded as Sam's cheeks went pink. "What if he finds out your helped us?"

"We're all gonna die anyway. Even good witch Glinda, here, isn't immortal. Well..." Crowley shrugged. "The moment you two leave, I vanish to all points nowhere. And finally, it might help if _you don't miss_! Miss Granger..."

"How do you know who I am?" Hermione demanded.

"Demons gossip." Crowley winked at her. "Now break this trap and I'll hand over the bullets."

Hermione rolled her eyes and held a hand out. A small velvet bag flew free from Crowley's pocket and into her palm. She tossed it to Dean, who counted the bullets.

"We're done here." He decided.

"You two get clear." Hermione ordered.

Sam and Dean left, taking the Colt with them. Hermione watched the demon pace the trap.

She sighed to herself.

"It says something about your life when the demons are more pleased to see you than the angels."

"C'est la vie."

She rolled her eyes and drew her wand, using it to banish the rug. Crowley smirked at her and vanished, leaving his house cold and empty.

* * *

"Please tell me you're _not_ trying to drink an angel under the table?" Hermione begged.

"Tryin' being the key word." Ellen grumbled, lining up the shots. "You drinkin', girl?"

Hermione lifted her glass of fire whiskey and the older woman nodded approvingly.

"Might as well." She murmured, before she headed to the sofa.

Sam and Dean were sitting around the desk, drinking beer and plotting.

"This has to be a trap, right?" She heard Sam ask as she approached.

Dean smirked.

"Sam Winchester, having trust issues with a demon. Well, better late than never."

Hermione glared at him over her piece of parchment.

"And thank you again, for your continued support." Sam replied, rolling his eyes.

"You're welcome." Dean set the paper he was looking over on the table and leaned forward. "Hermione, come here a minute."

Hermione grimaced, looking down at the letter she was trying to write.

"Can it wait a second?"

"Nope."

She sighed heavily and got up to lean against the back of Sam's chair, looking over his shoulder, leaving her letter abandoned with only two words written.

"I don't think it's a trap." Dean told them.

"Of course you don't."

Dean glared at her and she smirked.

"But by all means continue."

"Think about it...Carthage is lit up like a Christmas Tree with Revelation omens. Far too many to be a coincidence. _And_..." He added when he received doubtful looks. "There is this." He pulled out a stack of paper. "Six missing persons reported since Sunday! I think he's there."

Hermione frowned, leafing through the papers.

"At the very least," She murmured. "There's enough demon activity to warrant our presence anyway."

Dean hummed.

"But there's another problem." He turned to his brother. "You can't come."

Sam stiffened.

"Dean..."

"No, listen to me. If we go tomorrow and this all blows up in our faces, at the worst, we've lost a few boots on the ground. That we can take. But if you're there..."

"Dean, I'm not gonna say yes!"

Hermione rubbed at Sam's shoulders.

"Not intentionally." She promised. "I know. But..." she looked back to Dean. "We can't afford to leave Sam behind."

Dean stared at her.

"What?"

"We are taking on a town with what could be Lucifer's personal contingent of demons. His favourite servants...we need Sam. Ellen and Jo are great hunters, I'm okay. But as far as it goes, Sam's one of the two best in the country." She glared Dean down. "You're the best hunter out there, Dean. But _only_ with your brother by your side. At honestly, how are you going to stop Sam coming after us?"

"Well, I was trying to talk some sense into him before I realised I was going up against the damn debate team!" Dean growled, grumpily.

"She's right, you know."

Dean snorted, thinking back to something the Castiel from 2014 had said.

"She always is. No point in being surprised."

"Not always." Hermione muttered darkly.

"We need to do this together." Sam pressed.

Dean took a long drink of beer.

"Okay." He sighed, at last and Sam grinned, triumphant. "But it's a stupid friggin' idea."

Hermione pushed away from the table and headed away into the kitchen.

"Talking of stupid ideas..." Sam murmured.

Dean glared at him.

"Shut up."

"We could be dead this time tomorrow."

"And that's different from any other day, how?"

They watched Hermione top up her glass from the bottle on the counter and then knock back the fiery drink in one go. She was staring at nothing in particular and her brown eyes looked resigned. She made no attempt to join in the forced revelry from the Harvelle's and eventually she moved out of sight causing Dean to sigh.

"Kinda hard to remember she's nine years younger than you, isn't it?" Sam teased.

Dean dropped his head and bounced it off the desk.

"Thanks for reminding me, Sammy."

Sam grinned.

"Go talk to her."

He just about heard the, "_about?_" that was mumbled into the wood.

"I dunno...the massive crush you have on her?"

His brother jerked his head up and glared at him.

"I don't have a _crush_."

"Uh huh." Sam smirked. "And I'm the short Winchester."

"Bitch." Dean grumbled, getting up.

"Jerk." Sam called in return.

Dean followed his feet into the kitchen and out the back door, onto the porch. Hermione was leaning against the wall of the house, staring out at the night. Her hair was bound back in its usual braid, but one stray curl had sprung free and was tucked behind her ear.

"You okay?"

She glanced up at him, surprised.

"Yes."

"You don't look it."

A slight smile crossed her face, but it wasn't one Dean would really call "_happy_".

"I can't go in there and be all..." She shrugged. "This reminds me of the night before the big battle. You-Know-Who was assembling his forces for the big assault. We were sneaking in rebel fighters and sneaking out school children. All that preparation." She breathed, her voice sounding very far away even though she was standing next to him. "And, of course, you tried to get in the good lucks and the goodbyes. Or the other's did, I was busy...Wish I had taken a moment, you know?"

Dean wrapped an arm around her shoulder and tugged her closer, hugging her tightly.

"We're not gonna lose anyone."

She laughed.

"Don't be naive, Winchester. I hope we don't, of course. But I'd rather it was me than you."

Dean stared at her in horror.

"'Mione..."

"Everybody get in here! Time for the line up!"

Hermione pulled away and smiled.

"Photo time." She whispered.

Dean sighed and followed her through to the living room, where Bobby was arguing with Ellen.

"No one wants their picture taken.." She was saying. Sam made a vague noise of agreement.

"You're drinking my beer, ain't cha?" Bobby finished fiddling with the camera as Castiel appeared in the doorway. Jo shot Hermione a suspicious look when she saw Dean follow her in from the kitchen, which Hermione returned with one of irritated indifference. "My house, my rules."

They gathered in the corner, all bunched together. Sam, Dean and Castiel at the back with their arms around each other, Ellen and Jo stood together, resting their hands on Bobby's shoulders who was in the front, and Hermione stood in front of Sam and Dean, leaning back against them.

"Pushy bastard, ain't you?" Ellen griped.

They all smiled in time, ignoring the fatalistic comment Castiel made because social cues meant nothing to a seraph in face of fact.

* * *

It wasn't a perfect photograph. Bobby was almost scowling, Ellen's smile looked rather brittle and Dean was looking down at Hermione instead of at the camera, an odd look on his face.

* * *

"Bobby?"

The gruff hunter glanced up, frowning at her.

"Yeah."

Hermione held out the letter, the address on the front inscribed in sharp, spiky handwriting. Her hand shook slightly as she did so and she blushed.

"I've been meaning to give you this for a while." She murmured, glancing warily at the other hunters who were busy assembling their weapons. Hermione winced. "If I don't...come back..." She swallowed nervously. "Post this?" She begged.

Bobby snatched the letter from her, tucking it safely into a book.

"You're coming back." He growled.

She smiled gently, doing her best to hide her uncertainty behind it.

"Of course, Bobby."

* * *

Ellen, Jo and Castiel rode in the large sedan behind the Impala. Hermione was in her customary place in the back seat of Dean's car, watching the town approaching between the shoulders of the Winchesters. They stopped seeing other traffic about a mile away from Carthage. Mobile phone signal had been the next thing to go, and despite Sam leaning out the window with his phone, it didn't seem to be intent on returning. They drove in convoy through the empty streets, the rain spattering against the black metal of the Impala and filling it with the scent of dust and rain. Dean yelled through the window to Ellen to search for people, before he drove them through the town, looking for the Police. Nothing stirred in town and the only sound was the growl of the muscle car's engine.

"You seeing anyone?" Dean asked gruffly as they pulled to a stop outside Carthage's Police Station. Hermione shook her head, grabbing her guns. Her blade and wand was already strapped to her side and the Winchesters almost clanked with the amount of weaponry they were already carrying.

"Nothing." She whispered.

"Clear the building." Dean ordered and she nodded, stepping up the concrete steps and into the Station. It was completely silent, save for the faint buzzing of the police radio and the the dripping from the coffee machine.

"_Homenum Revelio_." She whispered, drawing her wand. Nothing happened, so she moved swiftly through the buildings, searching for something that would give her an indication of where the people were. Unlike River Pass several months ago, there was no sign of a struggle. The people has simply vanished.

"Nobody." She announced when she made her way outside to the brothers. Neither looked terribly surprised.

It wasn't long until Ellen and Jo appeared, stopping their car next to Dean's.

"Found anyone?" Sam asked hopefully.

Ellen shook her head.

"Nope. Whole town's empty. Is Cas with you?"

Dean frowned.

"I thought he was with you."

"He went after some reapers." Jo piped up, leaning against the car door.

"He saw reapers?" Dean's eyes widened. "Where?"

Jo shrugged.

"Kinda, everywhere. He vanished about five minutes ago."

"Well that's...peachy." Dean lifted his favorite shotgun and tucked a spare handful of rounds into his pocket. "Everyone got everything? Hermione!"

Hermione jerked, too busy staring at the surrounding buildings.

"You with us?" He demanded.

She nodded shakily, resting one hand on Simiel.

"Course."

"Right, move out then."

They headed for the main street, Dean leading the four other hunters, all armed to the teeth.

"You think Lucifer got him?" Sam asked grimly.

"I don't know what else to think. 'Mione, you any chance of finding him?"

She glanced at Ellen and Jo warily and shrugged.

"Maybe. He's an angel, it wouldn't be the same as finding Sam."

They rounded a corner and froze as a voice called out to them.

"There you are!" A demon called, delightedly.

They whirled to face her, guns raised.

"Meg!"

The demoness smirked.

"You shouldn't have come here, boys." She had her thumbs looped in her belt, and a pentacle on a string around her neck. She appeared unconcerned by the guns they were holding, watching them with a cocky smile.

Dean advanced on her, gun raised.

"Well, hell, I could say the same thing to you." He snapped.

Meg's grin only grew.

"Didn't come here alone, Deano." She teased, jerking her head to the empty tarmac by her feet.

Loud rumbling growls echoed off the buildings and Dean paled, glancing around for some sign of the hell hounds.

"Hell hound." Dean announced, looking shaken.

"Yeah, Dean. Your favourite."

Dean flinched.

"Come on boys," Meg beamed. "My father wants to see you."

"Yeah, I think we'll pass." Sam yelled.

The growls grew until Hermione heard them from every angle.

"Your call." She said cheerfully. "You can make this easy or you can make this really, _really_ hard."

Dean glanced back at them and Hermione nodded, lifting her gun slightly. On either side of her, Jo and Ellen did the same, both pale but standing. Hermione imagined she probably looked much the same.

Dean let out a breath.

"When have you ever known us to make something easy?" He quipped, before firing his gun at where he thought the nearest hell hound was. "RUN!" He bellowed.

Meg's laughter rang out behind them as they fled, pursued by what could have been three hell hounds or thirty. Jo stopped to aim at the hell hound who knocked Dean off his feet, in spite of his bellows to stay back. She emptied three rounds into it before Jo was brought down, long red lines appeared down her body as the beast ripped into her. Hermione gave a shriek of rage and dropped her gun, instead pulling her wand out. She raised it high and then brought it slamming down past her head, a long tongue of flame following it. The fire surrounded Jo, forcing the hell hounds back. The howled and Hermione whipped the flames higher until they formed and impenetrable wall across the street.

Dean snatched Jo up into his arms, already backing away as Sam and Ellen shot blindly into the flames.

"Get to high ground!" Hermione ordered Dean, not looking away from the fire she controlling. She advanced down the street, loud howls coming from the hell hounds unfortunate enough to attempt leaping through them.

"You find us!" He yelled over the roar of the flames.

"Dean, just go!"

"Promise me!" Dean growled, green eyes flashing.

She looked back at him for a moment, eyes meeting in the middle of a town that was quickly becoming a war zone.

"I promise." She whispered, too quiet for him to hear. He nodded anyway and sped off, Jo clutched tightly to his chest.

* * *

Hermione kept the flames close to her as she walked towards the demon. She couldn't extinguish them, not truly. This was Fiend Fyre, a spell that relied on emotions to drive it. That was what made it so hard for wizards to control. She summoned the fire out of anger and until she managed to regain control of her emotions, it was all she could do to stop the flames devouring the entire town.

The hell hounds had been destroyed and the scent of burnt flesh still hung in the air.

"So you're their little whore." Meg grinned brightly. "Awesome!"

The flames rose higher, wrapping around the pair and Meg took a wary step away from the fire.

"Bye!" She cheered, and smoked out. Hermione let the flames drop to a mere smoulder which left the tarmac burning as she glanced around her, irritated.

It didn't take much effort to find Castiel and she peered around a door frame into the room beyond. The angel was surrounded by a circle of Holy Fire and his eyes widened when he spotted her. He looked away instantly, focused on the other figure in the room. His figure was silhouetted by the fire and Hermione could make out wings, all three sets of them, covered in ash and soot. Like Castiel's they had been stained by their time in hell, but unlike the seraphs, these wings were twisted and dark spots of blood seeped through in places. Lucifer paused in his monologue and turned.

"I see you." He teased.

Hermione stumbled backwards, only just remembering to apparate away.

* * *

Sam had just bolted the doors when Hermione popped into the hardware store, stumbling over the salt lines.

"Lucifer's got Cas!" She yelled, steadying herself on the nearest shelf. Her hair was wild and singed, and she'd covered in soot. Hermione knew she was shaking slightly, the ice blue of Lucifer's gaze still fresh in her mind.

"What?" Dean demanded, busy spreading salt.

Hermione threw up her hands, aggravated.

"Lucifer. Castiel. Holy Fire. What's not to get?" She caught sight of Jo, who was drenched in blood, and Ellen who was sitting by her side, and her face paled. "JO!" Hermione shoved Ellen out of the way, kneeling beside Jo. She began muttering spells under her breath, siphoning away the blood so she could see the wound. "_Dittany_." She muttered, summoning a bottle from her bag.

"What the hell is she doing?" Ellen demanded frantically.

Dean pulled her back, letting Hermione work.

"Listen, Hermione is a witch. She can help."

"A _witch_! You let a witch near my daughter? You son of a bitch, I swear..."

"I _am_ trying to help." Hermione shot, testily. "So if you would please SHUT UP!"

They waited in silence for five minutes before Hermione settled back onto her heels, wiping the blood onto her trousers.

"Dean...I...I can get her to a hospital. I've done what I can, but she'll need surgery at the very least."

"You're not taking her anywhere without me!" Ellen stepped up close to her. "Now what the hell are you?"

"Oh, thank you for volunteering." Hermione beamed, reached out and grabbed the wrists of both Harvelle's. She twisted and vanished with a crack, taking them with her. Sam opened his mouth to speak but Dean held up a hand. Twenty seconds later, Hermione reappeared.

"So what now?" She demanded.

"Is Jo going to be all right?" Dean snapped, cutting across her.

Hermione opened her mouth and faltered.

"Dean..."

"Tell me."

"The damage was extensive." Hermione murmured, scrubbing at her eyes with her wrist, bloody fingers hanging limply. "Ellen's with her and she's in hospital. They'll take it from there. I slowed the bleeding, did emergency work but...it's not supposed to be a cure, Dean. It'll just keep her alive long enough for someone to help her properly. I'm sorry."

Sam shook his head.

"Don't be. You did your best."

Hermione cleaned her hands and looked to Dean, who was leaning against a wall, face pale.

"You heard Meg." He sighed. "Her father's here. This is our one chance and we can't help Jo now. We've got to take it."

"Can we get in touch with Bobby?" Sam asked.

"Depends on whether we can get a radio signal through. I don't know how much help he'd be."

Hermione sighed.

"He'd be able to tell us what on earth is going on here. Which would be something."

* * *

The cannibalised radio crackled as Dean spoke into it.

"KC5 Fox Delta Oscar, go ahead."

Dean sighed in relief.

"Bobby, it's Dean. We got problems."

"That's why I'm here, boy."

Hermione exchanged the faintest of smiles with Sam as she watched Dean absorb that. Whilst the boys didn't like talking about their father, she'd picked up the bare bones of their relationship with him from them. The rest she'd gathered from watching them. The way Dean flinched if Sam mentioned he was hungry. The look of surprise when someone came back when they were supposed to. Christmas...Hermione suspected that if Bobby hadn't been introduced as their friend, she would have assumed he was the boys father.

"Everyone okay?"

Dean winced at this.

"Jo and Ellen are at..." He glanced to Hermione desperately.

"Missouri State Hospital." She supplied. It had been the only hospital they'd passed in easy reach.

Dean relayed the information.

"What about you lot?"

"We're okay. Cas got himself captured by Lucifer." Dean explained about the reapers, whilst Sam walked the perimeter, checking the salt lines.

"Did Cas say how many?" Bobby barked.

"I dunno. More than two. Does it matter?"

"Devil's in the details."

"Lots. Jo..." Dean faltered for a second. "Said he was looking everywhere. Like they were standing all over the place."

"I do not like the sound of that."

"No one likes the sound of that." Hermione reached out and rested her hand on Dean's wrist for a second. Tired green eyes met hers and he sighed. "Sorry. You got any idea what it could be?"

"Death."

Everyone flinched and Bobby continued, his voice full of static.

"I think Lucifer's trying to work a ritual. I think he's trying to unleash Death."

Hermione pulled the hand holding the mic down to her level, careful not to touch the plastic. The last thing they needed was for her to fry the electrics by accident.

"Are we talking about biology or the Horsemen?" She demanded.

"The Horsemen."

Hermione sighed.

"But I've died several times..." Dean said, confused.

Hermione cut across him.

"Not death. Death. As in the person. Sam and I were doing research into the Horsemen, remember? He is the top of the Reaper food chain. An _Angel_ of Death, not a servant. According to legend he hasn't been allowed out of his cage since Noah."

"As in..."

"As in the arc, ya idgit." Bobby snapped, having evidently heard everything. "That's why the place is crawling with Reapers," He realised. "They're waiting on the big boss to show."

Hermione shut her eyes, willing the sense of hopelessness back.

"You got any _good_ news?" she heard Dean ask.

"Well, sorta. I looked into Carthage, tryin' to work out why Satan's there. You just solved it for me. The Angel of Death must be brought into the world through a place of awful carnage. Now, during the Civil War there was a battle. Right where you're standin'. A battle so intense they referred to it as the "_Battle of Hell Hole_." Massacred hundreds of soldiers."

"Where?"

"On the land of William Jasper's Farm."

* * *

"We need to go."

Hermione nodded, glancing out at the rapidly darkening sky.

"Did you get the hell hounds?" Sam asked.

"Yes." She frowned. "I don't understand why they've not sent more after us though."

"Well, you musta scared the crap out of them." Sam decided. "Dean?"

Dean didn't look up from the blood pool on the ground.

"Dean!"

"Yeah." He scrubbed a hand down his face. "We need to get going."

"The roof." Hermione suggested. "There might be more on the streets and..."

"Right." Dean gathered their stuff together and they made their way up onto the roof.

* * *

It was a long hike out of town and it was far too close to midnight for comfort when they finally arrived. Large fires were burning, sending flickering shadows across the field. Ranks were assembled, unmoving in the darkness as they watched a long figure toil with a shovel.

"So that's where the people went." Dean murmured.

"Why are they just standing there?" Hermione questioned, frowning.

"Possessed probably." Sam snorted softly.

"Hermione...You don't have to do this."

For a moment Hermione stared blankly at Dean, brown eyes reflecting the fire light. Then she reached out and grabbed his collar, dragging him down to her level.

"If you ever try and pull that bullshit again, I will curse you." She promised softly. "I'm not leaving you. Either of you." She added when Sam snickered. She released Dean and the hunter straightened up, eyeing her with something akin to awe.

"Fine. If he goes for Sam..."

"I _know_." She pressed.

"I don't!" Sam protested.

Hermione glared at him.

"Shut up, Sam."

The tall hunter stared at her in shock, before he glared.

"_Fine._ Any last words?"

They looked at each other.

"No."

"Not one."

"Yeah," Sam sighed. "Me neither."

Dean drew the Colt.

"Here goes nothing." He murmured.

* * *

Sam and Hermione approached Lucifer, walking quickly through the still lines of people. She took care to keep Sam within grabbing distance, remembering her words to Dean. She'd take Sam away if she thought he was in any kind of real danger. It wasn't him she was worried about though.

"Hey!" Sam shouted. The Devil paused in his digging and turned to look at them. "You wanted to see me?" He raised his shotgun and Hermione did the same with her wand.

Lucifer dropped his spade and dusted his hands off.

"Well, Sam. You don't need that gun here." He smiled, looking for all the world like someone's friendly brother. "You know I'd never hurt you. Not you. Her on the other hand, well, I won't lie. Not gonna be pretty."

"Yeah?" Lucifer froze as Dean pressed the Colt to his head, having successfully snuck up on him. "Well, I'd hurt you." He hissed. "So suck it!"

Dean fired and the bullet struck dead center, in the middle of the vessel's forehead. Lucifer dropped like a stone into the hole and Dean lowered the gun to his side. The three hunters exchanged looks of shock and the beginnings of hope as Dean began to smile.

A sudden gasp of breath dragged their unwilling gazes back to Lucifer, who rolled onto his back, rubbing at his head.

"Ow!" He complained.

Hermione bit back a scream as Sam and Dean stared in shock, watching the Devil get to his feet.

"Where did you get _that_?" Lucifer demanded.

Hermione pointed her wand at him as he turned to face Dean, attention on the Colt in his hand. He reached out one hand and knocked Dean through the air, sending him colliding with a tree.

"_Avada Kadarva_." Hermione whispered and the jet of green light left her wand and struck Lucifer in the side. He stumbled, grimacing.

"Why you little _pagan_!" He snapped. "That actually hurt!"

Hermione stared at him in shock, looking from her wand to him and back again, in a sort of dazed terror.

"Honestly, Sam. I don't know why you're associating with her ilk. Still," He grinned and the bullet hole in his head healed. "Where were we? Oh, yeah. Don't feel too bad. There's only five things in creation that that gun can't kill. I'm lucky enough to be one of them. So, if you could give me a minute, I'm almost done here."

Sam and Hermione rushed across the field to Dean, ignoring the Devil as he returned to digging.

"Dean!" Hermione begged, dropping to the ground.

"You know I don't suppose you'd say yes here and now would ya? Save me a lot of trouble." Lucifer rested his hands on his shovel and smiled at Sam.

"I'll never say yes." Sam yelled raggedly. "Never."

"Nah." Lucifer went back to digging, talking as he did so. "I think you will. In about six months. In Detroit."

Hermione froze in her attempts to rouse Dean. That level of certainty...She swallowed as realisation settled in her gut like a lead weight. Lucifer already knew how things were going to end. He knew Sam was going to say yes.

She tuned back into the conversation in time to hear Sam demand to know what Lucifer had done to this town.

"I was very generous." The Devil told them. "One demon for every able bodied man."

"And the rest of them?"

Hermione noticed something strange about the hole being dug. It wasn't getting any deeper.

"In there." He gestured to the pile of earth and Hermione wanted to be sick. Hundreds of people...thousands maybe. All dead. Standing above her, Sam looked similarly aghast.

"I know." Lucifer rolled his eyes. "But Horsemen are so demanding. So it was women and children first. I know what you must think of me, Sam." Those monstrous wings rose extended around him as he paused. "But I've got to do this. You understand. You of all people."

Sam bristled.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Hermione reached out and hooked an arm around Sam's leg, using him to pull herself up. She readied herself to disapparate at any second.

Lucifer tossed the shovel aside.

"I was a son." He told them petulantly. "A brother. Just like you. And just like you I loved my big brother. Idolized, in fact. And one day I asked him to stand with me. I begged him!" His face, blistered, grimaced. "And Michael turned on me. He called me a freak and a monster. And then he threw me out of my home. Tell me, Sam. Heard any of this before?"

Hermione tugged on Sam's hand, forcing him to break his gaze.

"Dean loves you." She whispered desperately. "Don't let him take that away from you."

"You'll have to excuse me. Horseman to raise and all. Midnight beckons. Oh, and don't go anywhere..." Hermione dropped to her knees as she felt Lucifer's grace constrict around her. Her vision swam and she dropped her head into her hands, trying to move. "Not that you could if you wanted to." By her side, Sam struggled against the Archangel's hold, trying desperately to pull his feet up from the ground.

Dean stirred as Lucifer began to chant in Enochian.

"Sam?"

"I'm here."

"'Mione?"

Hermione groaned as the grace tugged at her magic.

"Now repeat after me." Lucifer instructed, like a school teacher faced with a particularly rebellious class. "We offer up out lives, blood and souls..."

"We offer up our lives, blood and souls..." The demons repeated.

"To complete this tribute..."

"To complete this tribute..."

"Hermione can you get us out of her?"

Hermione wasted a second of breath to glare at Dean, before her hands covered her head again. The demons began dropping in flashes of light. The hunters watched in horrified silence as the last demon fell, before they turned to stare at Lucifer.

The Devil did his best to look innocent.

"What?" He surveyed the corpses with something akin to disgust. "They're just demons."

The ground began to trembled beneath them and Dean jumped as Castiel appeared beside them, one finger pressed to his lips. He reached out both hands and grabbed all three of them.

* * *

Hermione blinked and they reappeared in Bobby's sitting room. The grace that had been pressing her to the ground, lifted and she drew in a deep breath of air.

"What the hell?" Bobby demanded, wheeling over to them. Sam sank down onto the sofa, but Dean just stayed where he was, crouched on the floor near Hermione. Castiel stood silently, refusing to look at anyone.

"We..."

"It didn't work." Hermione managed. "The Colt...Dean got him right in the head..." She trailed off.

"So what now?" Bobby demanded.

Hermione thought back to Lucifer's words and then looked at Sam. She had six months at the most.

"We think of something else."

* * *

The waiting room of Missouri State Hospital was crowded, but even the crowds knew better than to go near the lone woman sitting at one end. Ellen was still covered in her daughter's blood and her elbows rested on her knees, her head bowed in prayer. She glanced up when they approached and grimaced.

"How you doing, Ellen?" Dean asked.

"She's in surgery." Ellen got to her feet, ignoring the question and shoved past the boys so she could get to Hermione, knife drawn.

"Ellen!"

"It's okay, Dean." Hermione assured him.

"You a good witch?" Ellen demanded.

"Yes, miss." Hermione blurted, taken back to Hogwarts, although Ellen was like no professor she'd ever met.

Ellen looked her over and nodded, tucking the knife away.

"Doctors said someone had done some damn good first aid. They reckoned it was the only thing that kept her alive until surgery."

Hermione glanced desperately at Dean over her shoulder and he remembered her words from before.

"Is she going to be okay?"

"I don't know. No one will tell me a damn thing. But...thank you."

Hermione nodded and Ellen hugged her tightly.

* * *

They waited for almost an hour before the double doors open and a surgeon dressed in scrubs appeared, heading straight for them. Hermione saw it instantly in his expression and she whimpered.

"Mrs Harvelle?"

Ellen got to her feet.

"Yeah?"

"I'm very sorry..."

That was as far as he got before Ellen's knees gave out and she collapsed to the floor.

"No."

"There were complications..."

"NO!" Ellen shrieked, her voice full of desperation. "Not my little girl. No." She begged, her expression crumpling. "Please!"

* * *

**_A/N _**

**_Don't hate me. Please._**

**_Let me know what you thought,_**

**_Hood_**


	14. Blame Game

Jo's funeral was somber and depressing. Once her body had been released from the morgue, they'd brought her back to the charred remains of the Roadhouse, the bar that had been her home for so many years. People came from all over America, much to Dean's surprise, hunters from all walks of life who'd known Jo. They formed a silent mass of people, young and old, who watched as Ellen lit the pyre and stood in a silent vigil until the fire burnt down to embers. Then, one by one, they stepped up to the lone mother and touched her shoulder, before they turned to leave. Eventually it was just the Winchesters, Hermione and Bobby, standing in the night.

"Ellen..." Bobby wheeled himself forward until he was by her side.

Ellen didn't respond. She'd barely spoken since the announcement had been made in that waiting room and Bobby sighed.

"Listen to me...You can't just stop. Jo wouldn't have..."

"Don't you tell me what my daughter would've wanted, Singer. Don't you dare!" Ellen snarled.

Bobby winced and settled back into his chair, content to wait the woman out.

* * *

They stood there until sunrise the next morning, the bright sunlight breaking through the the grey clouds. Without a word, Ellen spun on her heel and marched over to Bobby's car, slipping into the driver's seat. Dean sighed.

"Now what?"

Bobby shrugged.

"I'm gonna take her back to my house. She ain't go nowhere else to go an' she's in no state to hunt right now."

Sam eyed the pile of cinders with something close to despondency.

"What about us?"

Hermione looked to Dean, who frowned.

"Since when was I in charge?" He barked.

"Uh, since always?" his brother offered, finally turning towards them. Sam slung an arm across Hermione;s shoulders and she glanced up at him, pale and silent. "We need to..."

"Stop." Hermione whispered. "Just stop."

They stared at her.

"What?" Dean demanded.

"Go find a motel..." Hermione coughed, scrubbing dried tears from her face. "Just hole up for a bit. Bobby will take care of Ellen. I need to go to work for a while but...What can we do right now, Dean? Really?"

Dean winced.

"Call me?" He ordered, but it came out as more as a plea than anything else.

Hermione nodded, brown eyes worryingly empty.

"As soon as I'm finished." She hugged them all, before she turned towards the car. Dean frowned as she bent down to talk to Ellen through the open window.

"How does she do it?"

"What?"

Dean sighed.

"Go back to be normal. Going to work. Hell, she has a boyfriend and a family back home." He looked at them confused. "Why does she even bother coming here and helping us?"

Sam offered him a weak smile.

"Because, for some weird ass reason, she cares about us."

"She's not the only one." Bobby added, darkly. "You boys take care now, ya hear me?"

"Yeah, Bobby."

Hermione vanished a few seconds later.

* * *

"Ellen?"

The dark haired woman didn't look up, just flexed her fingers on the steering wheel.

"I'm sorry." Hermione whispered. "Really...I am."

"You should be."

Hermione flinched.

"It's your damn fault she's dead." Ellen turned to face her, eyes blazing. "What? That magic o' yours couldn't save her properly?"

"There are limitations...I did what I could..."

"I don't give a crap. You should have saved her!"

Hermione backed away, nodding.

"I know." She murmured. "That's why I'm sorry."

* * *

The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was in turmoil. Loud hiccuping sobs came from one of the corner offices, the silencing charms having failed three minutes hence.

"Somebody get Auror Potter." Bullwinkle bellowed. "NOW!"

Several lower ranking officials scurried off. A few minutes later, Harry rounded the corner at such speed that he slid in the wall before correcting himself and sprinting the rest of the way.

"Where is she...?"

"Auror Potter!"

Harry glared at the Head of Department, the distant crash from behind him telling him Ron had arrived.

"Where is she?" He repeated, glaring at the older man. Bullwinkle, evidently unprepared to face the full strength of the Chosen One, backed down.

"In the corner office. We couldn't move her." He explained and Harry pushed past him.

Hermione's office was a state. Paper's covered every surface in tall towering piles that were a far cry from the organisation she'd once boasted at Hogwarts. Harry paused in the doorway, letting Ron go first. Hermione was crumpled in a corner, hands a blistered, bloody mess that was entirely too familiar. Tears tracked down her face and almost hid how utterly exhausted she looked.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" Ron said tactlessly and Harry winced.

"Hey."

She glanced up at them and he could see that the pain in her eyes went much deeper than the injuries on her hands.

"Bubotuber pus?" He asked briskly, stepping across the large pools of it on the ground which hissed malevolently. Hermione nodded, allowing Ron to tug her up.

"I should have screened my mail." She mumbled, tears still leaking from her eyes. "I was just distracted and..."

Ron ducked under one arm and Harry the other and between them they began to walk Hermione from her office. The damage was much more severe than it had been in their fourth year, the acidic liquid having burnt holes in her robes across her torso and calves, and Hermione whimpered with every step.

"This is much stronger than it should have been." Harry murmured to Ron. Ron nodded, glancing back at the office.

"We'll never find out who the letter was from either. Did it have a return address?"

"Ron!" Harry snapped, but Hermione answered anyway.

"No. It didn't."

Together they maneuvered her into the lift and Ron pressed the button for the Healers station on floor three.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked quietly.

Hermione didn't respond, tears still dropping silently onto the floor.

The two wizards exchanged worried glances over her head and waited for the doors to open. The Healers had been expecting them because no sooner than the grill had pulled apart, at least three sets of hands reached in and pulled her away from them.

"Is she going to be all right?" Ron asked one of the closer Healers.

A Healer, Braithweight according to his tag, shrugged.

"She won't die." He provided helpfully, before rushing off to fetch potions.

Sighing, Harry turned back to Ron.

"Go up to her office, see what evidence you can gather. Get Creevey to give you a hand." Ron glanced back at Hermione, who'd been settled onto a hospital bed as two healers efficiently set to work on her hands. "I'll stay with her. I want these bastards caught." The red head nodded and stormed off, clearly just as upset as Harry.

He waited until the Healer's gave him the all clear and took down the privacy screens before he approached the witch.

"Here." He held out her bag. "One of your secretary's brought it down. Bullwinkle said to take the rest of the day off.

Hermione snorted and stared at him with bleary exhausted eyes.

"How's the garden going?" She asked suddenly.

"It's fine."

"And Ginny? How's she?"

"She's all right. Got through the preliminary trials for the Holyhead Harpies."

Hermione made a vague sound of approval as a glint of silver caught his eye.

"What's that, Hermione?"

She blinked at him, dazed and he held up the long blade.

"That's Simiel. Gimmie."

Reluctantly he handed the knife over, noting the way she relaxed once it was tucked against her side.

"She's dead." Hermione said without warning.

"Who is?" Harry eyed the potions on the bedside table. "How much pain relief did they give you?"

Hermione shrugged.

"My friend. We burned her this morning and she's dead and it's my fault. I should have...done _something_." She picked at the hem of her hospital robe, "Ellen was right."

"Hermione, what are you talking about?" Harry asked, alarmed. He'd never seen his friend look so defeated.

"It doesn't matter now. Where's Ron?"

"Collecting evidence." Harry eyed her warily as she pushed herself up, grimacing. "Where are you going?"

"Home." Hermione yawned. "I've been sent home, remember and it's only..." She checked the large mechanical clock on the wall. "Ten o clock in the morning. I've gotten no work done and I won't until these are healed." Her hands were heavily bandaged so she held her bag between her forearm and her body.

"Just give me a minute and I'll come with you."

Hermione nodded agreeably and Harry left to let his superiors know what was happening. When he returned he was faced with an empty ward and several bored Healers.

"Where did she go?" He demanded.

"Home." Breithwieght shrugged, apparently unconcerned. "Someone in tan robes escorted her out."

"What about her release papers?"

The pale green documents were shoved at him carelessly and he scanned them quickly for a signature. Per regulations no one under the effect of potions could sign themselves out of medical care. It stopped a lot of foolish people trying to apparate home.

Harry frowned, heading for the lift.

He had no idea who Castiel Winchester was, but he was damned if he didn't find out.

* * *

Castiel dropped her in the dark motel room without a word and Hermione collapsed onto the first bed she found, uncaring of which brother she was disturbing. Sam, as it turned out, stirred enough to mumble something under his breath before he adjusted, resting one hand on her back. An uneasy smile on her face, Hermione soon fell asleep.

* * *

"'Mione."

Hermione opened her eyes and stared in confusion at the hunter.

"Dean?"

"You wanna tell me what the _hell_ happened to you?" Dean yelled, looking furious.

She frowned and tried to rub her eyes. When the skin of her face met the heavy bandages on her hands she stopped and frowned.

"Ah."

"Ah?" Sam yelped from where he was sitting on the table. "You're covered in bandages!"

"What happened?" Dean demanded in the tone of voice that told him he was really asking for the names and addresses of those he had to kill.

"It's nothing. Just a little hate mail."

They froze.

"Hate mail?" Sam questioned. "Why would someone send you hate mail?"

"I'm very unpopular." She said dryly.

"What, and your hate mail usually explodes?"

"Not recently." Hermione murmured.

Dean clenched his jaw.

"Cas, get your ass down here!" He snapped.

"Be nice to Castiel." She chided.

Castiel appeared in time to hear Dean shout,

"He's a freakin' celestial being, Hermione, not some two year old! Heal her!" He added turning to the angel.

"Dean!" Hermione snapped before she softened her tone as she turned back to Castiel. "I'm fine, Cas. You don't have to worry..." she trailed off as the angel reached out with one hand and rested his fingers on her forehead. "Thanks." She murmured.

Sam settled by her side to begin unwinding the bandages, which were stained and bloody.

"What was this stuff?"

"Bubot...Acid." Hermione explained, eyeing Dean. The older Winchester had settled in the corner of the room and was watching the two of them with dark, brooding eyes. "Stronger than usual, I think they cursed it."

"And you just opened it?"

"I was distracted." She whispered and an unhappy silence settled in the motel room, broken only by the sounds of Sam unwinding bandages.

"You're supposed to be safe there." Dean said suddenly. Sam shot him a sharp look, a frown on his face.

"I've been in danger back in England a lot longer than I have here." Hermione told him. Dean sighed. "I'm not Sam, Dean. I don't fall under the same clause of your protectiveness that he does."

"Don't you?" He snapped, getting up from his chair and heading for the door.

"Dean..." Hermione pleaded but he slammed the door behind him. She turned to Sam and Castiel, confused. "What did I do?"

Sam rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded like "_oblivious_." under his breath.

"You know what Dean's like. Can't stand to see anyone he cares about hurt." Sam chucked the soiled bandages in the bin. "You okay getting the rest yourself?"

Hermione nodded.

"Yes, but that applies to you. Not me."

"Dean cares about you, 'Mione." Sam grimaced. "He's just rubbish at showing it."

* * *

Over the next few weeks they settled back into an uneasy routine. Whoever had sent that letter went uncaught, much to Harry's displeasure and Hermione spent as much time at her parents house hiding from her friends as she could. Harry's relentless hounding to know who Castiel was had become almost impossible to ignore and she received more than one suspicious look from the Weasley's she'd seen recently. The rest of her life was occupied with the Winchesters. Ellen was...well better wasn't the word, but not worse didn't really work either. Sam and Dean went back to taking regular hunts and Hermione helped as best she could. The awkwardness between her and Dean hasn't dissipated and the Impala had been full of one too many awkward silences recently.

* * *

"Granger."

Sam and Dean frowned as Hermione listened to whoever it was who had called her. There were on a case in Indiana, a fairly regular salt and burn involving the ghost of an elderly school teacher who'd been taking revenge on her old students.

"No..." She whispered, almost pleading. "Please..." A tear was making it's way down her face, digging a track through the grave dirt. Dean grabbed her elbow as she started to sway on the spot. "No...no..."

"Sam..." Dean ordered. His younger brother nodded, carefully lifting the phone out of Hermione's loose grasp as Dean turned her so he could hug her to his chest.

"Miss Granger?" A voice asked.

Sam winced,

"This is Sam Winchester. What's happened?"

"Is Miss Granger okay?" The voice demanded in an English accent.

Sam took a steady look at the witch who seemed to have crumpled in on herself. Dean appeared to be the only thing holding her up.

"Not really." He murmured.

There was a long sigh.

"Right. Well, she's just had some bad news. If you could get her home as soon as possible we would appreciate it. Do _not_ let her apparate in this state."

The wizard hung up.

"Hermione?" Dean asked, surprisingly gently. "What happened?"

She lifted her head and stared at them, grief etched onto her face.

"That was the Auror on duty. They were called to my..." She choked slightly. "..my home when my wards broke. They got there too late. My parents..." Sam and Dean exchanged a horrified look as Hermione sobbed. "They killed them. They want to know if...I was in contact with any Death Eaters recently."

"But..."

"I need to go." She whispered hoarsely. "Castiel!"

The angel appeared at Dean's shoulder.

"Take me home." She pleaded.

* * *

"I met them once." Sam told him that night. "Her parents. They were nice...kind. Didn't mind that she had some stranger living with her."

Dean sighed.

"You reckon this was those...Death Eaters?"

Sam gave him a bleak look.

"You know as well as I do, we don't get that lucky."

"So it's our fault." Dean announced.

"Probably." Sam agreed and reached for the whiskey.

* * *

They didn't see Hermione for a week after that.

Not, of course, that they were expecting to. They could sympathise with what she was going through. When she did finally appear, Castiel dropped her silently in the corner of their motel room and left immediately. Dean lowered the gun he'd aimed automatically and sighed.

"Hey."

"Hi." She rasped. Hermione looked terrible. Her hair was in disarray, her clothes wrinkled. She looked exhausted, large bruises under her eyes, thrown into sharp relief by her incredibly pale skin.

"You okay?" Dean asked cautiously.

She shrugged tiredly and dropped the duffel she'd been holding onto the floor. It landed with a surprisingly heavy bang.

"Here." He got to his feet and opened his arms, surprised when she ran straight into the them. She was shivering, and he sighed into her hair, pulling her closer.

"What happened?" He asked eventually, when she'd pulled away and they'd both sat down. Sam was out doing...something. It somehow didn't seem important at the moment.

"I got home." She murmured hollowly. "I...the Auror's debriefed me. Spent ages questioning me, in fact. Course Harry arrived halfway through and pulled the Hero card so they went a bit easier on me." She gave a broken laugh. "You know they spent almost two hours asking if I knew of a spell which could do that to a human? They showed me the bodies, wanted me to identify them."

"And you're sure it was them?" He questioned, hoping she was wrong.

"Yes. I'm sure."

"Shit." He breathed. "You said their bodies were damaged..."

"Damaged? THEY RIPPED THEM TO SHREDS!" She shrieked, startling Dean into jumping. "They ripped them to shreds and they wanted to know if I could tell them what spell could leave a sulphuric residue on a corpse!"

Dean swallowed nervously.

"I'm sorry..." He began.

"Why?" She was hysterical, eyes flashing, hair crackling with static and wayward magic. "Sorry for dragging me into this fucking apocalypse? Sorry for making my family a target? That wasn't you!"

"What?" Dean asked, startled.

Hermione snorted, clawing her hands through her hair.

"It's not your fault. Or Sam's. Or Cas'. I _chose_ to help you. I _decided_ to stay." She turned back to face him, tears streaming down her face. "I wish I could blame you. I really do. But this..." She drew in a shuddering breath. "This is all on me. Lucifer _saw _me. He knew what and who I was and I tried to _kill_ him._"_ She swiped at her cheeks with her sleeve. "I was an idiot for thinking there wouldn't be consequences. And I just...I couldn't take it any more. The Weasleys...they didn't understand. Harry...he blamed himself. They all thought it was Death Eaters. I just couldn't take it any more." she repeated. "The funeral was yesterday, I packed up my stuff this morning and prayed to Castiel." She stared at him, shaking slightly. "I've got another week of compassionate leave. So...can I stay?"

"Yes." He said without hesitation. "Course. Please. Listen, why don't you go have a shower? I'll text Sam to pick up some food on the way back, okay?" She nodded weakly and grabbed her bag.

* * *

Sam took one look at Hermione, downloaded the cheesiest movie he could find and settled all three of them on Dean's bed. Hermione couldn't tell you what film it was, but she could tell you that neither brother let go of her all night. That evening, her nightmares returned full force and not even Dean standing watch could keep them at bay. The motel manager had to be sent away several times with the assurance that she wasn't being murdered.

She went back to work a week later and hid herself behind piles of paperwork and legislation. She realised, halfway through a redraft, that she didn't enjoy her job any more. She was pushing so hard against years of bureaucracy and discrimination and the only thing she managed was to tire herself out.

"Why am I here, Ron?"

Ron looked up from his lasagne and frowned at her.

"Because you can't eat at your desk."

Hermione gave a bitter laugh.

"Good a reason as any." She decided.

* * *

"Bring her to me."

Dean frowned, but took the older woman's advice as an order. The next day he packed up his brother and their almost catatonic witch and sent the Impala in the direction of South Dakota.

"Ellen wants to see you." He explained, when Hermione eyed him dully from the back seat. In all honesty he was worried about her. She hadn't laughed in weeks, barely spoke to anyone. It reminded him of the days after Jessica's death when Sam would do nothing but plot the end of the yellow-eyed demon. It reminded Sam of his father's death when Dean bottled everything up inside and refused to talk about it. Like Dean, Hermione believed her parents deaths were solely her fault, but unlike with Dean, he wasn't entirely sure she was wrong.

Bobby's house had changed since their last visit. Ellen, either in a fit of grief or a sudden hatred of dirt, had cleaned everything including, judging by his suspiciously whiskey free state, Bobby.

"You boys head on out." she ordered, sitting Hermione down at the scrubbed table. "We'll be fine."

Dean ignored the vaguely alarmed look Hermione shot him and wheeled Bobby outside to work on some cars.

Ellen dumped a bottle of beer in front of her and Hermione accepted it out of reflex, fingers curling around the cool glass.

"I heard about your folks." She murmured, taking her own seat. "Thought I'd tell you I was sorry."

Hermione sighed.

"Thank you, Ellen." she said quietly.

"It weren't your fault, girl."

Hermione glanced up at that.

"Wasn't it? I should have protected them better. Sent them away again. Done something!" Hermione's voice rose in pitch until a nearby glass shattered. Ellen gave the fragments an unimpressed glance.

"You done?" She demanded. Hermione didn't respond, staring down at her fingers. "I'm sorry about what I said. You did your best to save..." Ellen swallowed. "Jo." She whispered. "Bobby talked some sense into me." The hard woman grimaced. "Damn idiot thinks he's some kinda psychiatrist or something."

A small smile made it's way onto Hermione's face and Ellen nodded.

"What do we do?" Brown eyes met hers and Ellen met them unflinchingly. "What do we do now?" The older woman shrugged.

"I don't know. Get on with life, I think. Try an' beat this damn Apocalypse. Make sure those boys survive." Hermione smiled bitterly. "Never met someone as prone to danger as those two. How's that angel of yours?"

"Busy." Hermione picked at the label on the bottle. "Looking for God."

"Good luck to him."

"Hmm."

"Tell me about them?" Ellen asked.

Hermione's head jerked up and she stared at her.

"You're parents...Tell me about them."

"They were dentists." Hermione said slowly. "Emma and Daniel Granger, from London. They met in University and..." She talked until she couldn't think of anything else to say. And then Ellen sat back and told Hermione about Jo's first steps and her first day of school.

* * *

Glenwood Springs Psychiatric Hospital was a modern building full of blank walls and square windows. Hermione stared up at, visibly unimpressed.

"And we're here again, why?" Hermione asked dryly.

"An old friends of our dad's. He reckons there's a case here." Dean locked the boot of the car with all their weapons and belongings in it. Hermione felt almost naked without her wand or Simiel strapped to her side, but they couldn't risk losing them for good once they were admitted.

"The things I do for you people." Hermione muttered.

"So, now what?" Sam asked.

"Now we go be crazy people."

* * *

"So, tell me Alex, how do you feel?" Dr Fuller asked, smiling over his clipboard.

Sam shrugged, looking a little depressed.

"I'm all right. Bit down, you know."

"Why's that?"

"Well, I _did_ start the Apocalypse."

The doctor paused.

"As in..."

"As in I set Lucifer free from his cage." Sam told him cheerfully. "It was all my fault, I've caused literally thousands of deaths. It was an accident, I mean, don't get me wrong, but I didn't do it on purpose." Hermione patted his hand sympathetically. "But Sophie got me some magic and..."

"Magic?" he interrupted again.

Sam nodded.

"Yeah, she's like this super powerful witch."

"I can do spells." Hermione beamed.

"Yeah, and like she didn't mind when I drank her blood, she was like, totally awesome about it and..."

"You didn't mean to." Hermione assured him, brown eyes wide. "I was possessed by a demon."

"Demons?" The doctor managed weakly.

"Mmhmm."

The doctor turned back to Dean as Sam and Hermione continued to bicker about whose fault it was the end of the world had happened.

"I have to say, Mr Jones, I think I see your point. I would like to take both your brother and sister in for more some more rigorous testing."

"That's great." Dean gave him an easy smile. "They've been driving me insane. The Apocalypse wasn't their fault."

"It's not?"

"No. There was this demon who got him addicted to demon blood, _Sophie, stop trying to curse Alex,_ and he wasn't acting like himself."

Hermione began to chant under her breath in Latin.

Dr Fuller picked up his phone.

"Cancel my appointments." He ordered.

* * *

Sam, Dean and Hermione regrouped in the communal room of the hospital, all dressed in scrubs. Sam burst into loud laughter when he saw Hermione. Dean, whose sense of self preservation was slightly stronger than his brothers, pursed his lips.

"You look..."

"Small." Sam supplied.

Without her usual jeans and shirts, with her hair loose around her shoulders, Hermione looked considerably smaller than she usually did. Add to that, whatever charm she used to keep her hair in order had been removed with her hair band and she looked like a very grumpy, if rather fluffy, kitten. She kicked out at Sam's instep in retaliation and Dean chuckled as Sam hopped on one foot, scowling.

"You two really are like brother and sister..." He trailed off, looking slightly nauseous. "That's disgusting." He murmured to himself.

"So what are you in here for?" Hermione asked, trying in vain to tuck her hair back behind her ears. "Sam and I are delusional."

"Worrying co-dependency issues." Dean scowled. "I don't know what he's talking about."

Sam coughed.

"This from the guy who freaked out because we went to the grocery store for three hours and didn't call."

"You could've been killed. Demons, Sammy."

Sam smirked.

"Were you chanting what I think you were chanting?" He asked Hermione, who turned slightly pink.

"What was she chanting?" Dean frowned. "And since when did either of you speak Latin?"

Sam and Hermione gave him equally irritated looks.

"Since always. And if I'm right, it was something along the lines of "t_here's a stain on this floor, there's a stain on this floor, there's a stain on this_...""

"Someone's staring at you." Hermione pointed out.

"That's Martin."

They walked over and the older hunter cleared his throat, smiling nervously.

"Sam and Dean, you boys got big. And you got a sister!"

Dean winced.

"Martin, this is Hermione. She's hunting with us." Hermione waved. "How you been?"

Martin shrugged.

"Good as can be expected considering I'm..." He shrugged again and they all sat down.

"So...uh, what is it you think we're hunting?" Sam asked.

"Ghost. Monster...I don't know. Whatever it if it's killed five people in four months. Doctors call it suicides, of course. But they're a bunch of idiots."

"Has anyone seen this thing?" Dean asked, doubtfully.

"Well, not really. Few people have caught a glimpse."

"Are they reliable?"

"Sure. Why wouldn't they be?"

Dean glanced at the woman who was waltzing with an invisible partner and raised his eyebrow.

"No idea."

"Look, I know you think I'm crazy, but I know something's here. You gotta trust me!"

"We do." Sam assured him.

"Ah! Alex, Eddie and Sophie. I'm glad to see you're making friends."

The hunters glanced up and stared at Dr Fuller.

"Why don't you and Mr Creaser join us for group?"

Seeing no choice but to comply, they got up from the table. Hermione and Sam lingered just long enough to hear Dr Fuller tell Dean he couldn't go with them.

"Why not?" Dean demanded.

"Well, to be frank, the relationship you have with your brother and sister seems to be dangerously co-dependant. I think it's time to split you up from your siblings."

"But..."

The doctor walked off, leaving Sam and Hermione to make apologetic faces at Dean.

* * *

They regrouped an hour later and Hermione pillowed her head on her arms.

"Bad group?" Dean asked, curious.

"In some ways." Sam glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "There was this guy, who swears he's seen a monster. Thinks it's going to kill all of them. How about you, find out anything?"

"Well, apparently I'm a narcissistic schizophrenic." Hermione hummed an agreement and Dean flicked her ear. "But other than that, not much. The doctor I talked to was too interested in diagnosing me than helping."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"No kidding. What now?"

"How about we talk to this guy who saw the creature?" Dean suggested.

"When?"

"Tonight." Hermione lifted her head of the table. "Dean, are you all right?"

"Damn doctor tried to shrink me but otherwise yeah, why?"

"No reason. If we go tonight it'll be easier..."

* * *

Hermione met them outside their rooms, freeing Sam with a wave of their hands.

"Guess it takes a lot to keep a witch in." he murmured.

"You should see our mental asylums. We have to be chained down." Hermione told him sadly.

Sam frowned.

"Why?"

"Magic is linked to emotion. Not something you really want going awry." She explained.

"Room 303. We've got 15 minutes before rounds." Dean snapped, dragging their attention away from magical treatments.

The screaming started as they got closer to Ted's room and the three hunters sped up into a run.

"Hermione, get that door open!" Dean ordered, seeing Ted's slippered feet beat against the reinforced glass.

"Leave her alone!" Sam snapped.

The lock sprung free just as Ted went limp. He was hanging from the ceiling, a bed sheet wrapped around his neck.

"Too late." Hermione whispered.

* * *

Hermione waited with Martin in the communal area, twirling a chess piece between her fingers.

"So those boys are doing, what now?"

"Breaking into the morgue."

Martin twitched.

"How do you know them?" Hermione asked, trying to change the subject.

"I used to hunt with their Daddy. Good man, John Winchester."

Hermione stared at him in disbelief, before she shook her head.

"We got something!" Dean dropped into the chair by her side without warning, causing small sparks to cascade from her fingertips.

"Don't _do_ that." Hermione hissed.

"Sorry." Sam settled into the other chair and sighed. "So this thing, whatever it is, sucks your brain dry through a hole in your neck." he looked at Martin expectantly. "Got any ideas what it is?"

"Yeah." Martin paled. "A really bad one."

"Have any trouble getting into the morgue?" Hermione asked as they headed back to the Martin's room.

"Nearly got caught by that nurse..." Sam grimaced. "Dean got us out of it."

"How?"

"You don't wanna...unf!" Sam grabbed the blonde girl who'd leapt at him from the doorway and kissed him, and pulled her away from him sharply.

She pouted up at him. "Aww."

Dean chuckled as she skipped off down the corridor.

"You could do worse."

"Shut up." Sam grumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Martin rummaged under his mattress and pulled out a journal, similar to the one Dean kept in the Impala. He flicked through it desperately, before settling on a picture of a grotesque face, with black eyes.

"What is that?" Hermione asked, worriedly.

"A Wraith." Martin shuddered. "They crack open skulls and eat brain juice."

"Have you ever fought one before?"

"Never. Never wanted to neither."

"How do we stop it?" Dean asked, more concerned with the immediate problems.

"Silver. A wraith can even touch the stuff without their skin crackling. But that's the good news..."

"They can pass an humans." Hermione announced, skimming the page of jagged writing. "So it could literally be anyone."

"Then how do we know who it is?"

"A mirror." Martin jumped in, glaring at Hermione resentfully. "It'll show it's true form in a mirror."

Sam nodded.

"So we check everyone. But why is it _here_? Why a mental hospital?"

"Perfect hunting grounds." Dean shrugged. "No one's gonna believe anyone and no one bats an eye at a few suicides."

"I'm gonna go find a mirror."

Sam glanced after his brother and sighed.

"I'll go." Hermione offered.

She caught up with Dean outside the nurses station.

"You okay?"

The question caught her off guard and she frowned at him.

"Yes?" she offered.

Dean glared at her.

"I didn't sleep last night." She sighed. "I'm just a bit strung out."

"Why not?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but this isn't the most restful environment..." She trailed off peering over her shoulder. "Can you hear that?"

"What?"

"I thought I heard...nothing. It's impossible." She gave him a weak smile. "Are you okay?"

"Did Sam put you up to this?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yeah, if my brother wants to talk to me about my _feelings_."

Hermione sighed, leaning against his shoulder.

"I understand," She offered. Dean glanced down at the scar on her arm, visible in her short sleeves.

"Yeah. Guess you do."

She glanced over her shoulder again, frowning.

"I'm going to check some of the other mirrors." She told him slowly, still frowning. "Sam's getting silver."

* * *

"It's Dr Fuller."

Hermione and Sam looked up at him and Dean frowned. "Bit more excitement here, people. Come on!"

"Dr Fuller?" Sam repeated doubtfully. Hermione was too busy squinting down the corridor. "The psychiatrist?"

"Saw him in the mirror and everything."

Sam nodded.

"Okay. I've got us some silver, when are we going after him?"

"This evening?" Dean suggested. "Are you listening?" He demanded.

Hermione didn't look around, her attention clearly focused elsewhere.

"Yes."

"To me?"

"Maybe."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"The sooner we're out of here, the better. This place gives me the creeps."

* * *

That nights attempt at hunting was an unmitigated failure on all counts. Not only was Dr Fuller not the Wraith, but in his attempt to kill him, Sam had put two orderlies in Hospital and had to be sedated. Dean and Hermione stood in his doorway watching him bat at the motes of dust floating in the air.

"So, now what?"

"We test everyone against silver?" Hermione suggested. She had her forearm pressed to her chest, almost curling herself around it.

"How? If we go around cutting people they'll drug _us _too."

She shrugged and winced as though someone had shouted in her ear.

"There's nothing more we can do tonight." She told him quietly, almost whispering. "Perhaps we should just get some rest?" She left before he could agree and Dean watched her as she almost fled down the corridor to her room. Sam chuckled.

"She's crazy. You're crazy. We're all crazy. Crazy, crazy, crazy."

"Shut up, Sam."

* * *

He left not longer after that, only to be followed through the corridors by his shrink.

"You still hunting that Wraith?"

"It'd go a lot easier if you'd stop bothering me." He retaliated.

"Not going to happen, Dean."

"People are dying." He snapped.

"People always die. It's what people do."

Dean winced, remembering Hermione's words from what felt like a lifetime ago.

"I'm trying to save your life here so..."

"It's not my life that I'm worried about." She told him.

"Oh, for...I am fine." He told her. "Completely fine!"

"Even you don't believe that." She smirked. "All this pressure, all that guilt. It's killing you. You can't save everybody." Her expression shifted and Dean frowned. "Hell, these days you can't save anyone, Dean."

Dean frowned, caught out at the use of his real name.

"What did you say?"

"The truth!" She snapped viciously. "You're the reason Jo is dead. You're the reason Hermione's parents are gone. You shot Lucifer, but you couldn't finish the job. You couldn't stop Sam from killing Lilith and _you_ broke the first seal. All you do is fail!"

"Who are you?" Dean demanded, stepping closer to her. "How do you know about that stuff?"

"Hey!"

He ignored the shout from the closest orderly.

"Who are you?" He repeated. "Tell me!"

"Settle down." The man yelled, moving closer. Dean looked up at him for a moment before looking back at his doctor.

"Who are you?"

"Hey, buddy..."

"Who is she?" Dean demanded.

"Who?"

"What are you blind?" Dean pointed at the woman. "Her!"

The orderly rolled his eyes.

"There's no one there, pal."

"I'm not real, Dean." The woman whispered, a cruel smirk crossing her face. "I'm in your head, because, guess what? You _are_ going crazy!"

"No." He backed away, unable to take his eyes off her. "NO!"

* * *

Dean woke that night to the sound of a blood curdling scream.

"Hermione!"

Throwing his covers aside, he grabbed his makeshift lock pick and set to works on the door. In the distance he could hear the sound of large feet thumping across the ground. They were getting closer. He gave up on the lock as the footsteps rounded the edge of the corridor. Hermione sped down the hallway, brown hair hanging in tangled locks behind her head. She stopped outside his door, turning terrified eyes on Dean.

"Dean!" She begged, standing on her tip toes to see in through the glass. "You've got to help me!"

"What's wrong? Is it the Wraith?"

"No. Bella. She came back..." Hermione twisted to look over her shoulder. "I can hear her, Dean. She's coming to kill me. Please, you've got to help me." The thundering of feet got closer and Dean could only watch as Hermione was knocked to the floor when an orderly tackled her. The man flew ten feet through the air and crashed into a wall as Hermione backed away from the others.

"I won't tell you!" She swore through her tears. "I won't tell you, I won't tell you, I won't tell you! DEAN!"

"HERMIONE!" Dean slammed his palms against the door, desperate to get to her. Behind her a spiderweb of cracks spread out along the plaster, threatening to split at any moment.

The nearest orderlies grabbed her arms, pinning her against the wall. Hermione twisted and kicked to get free, her eyes never leaving Dean's. A hypodermic was pushed into her neck and she shrieked.

"Please, no. Please! I don't know where it is. We found it. Dean, tell her we found it!" She begged as the drugs began to take hold. The orderlies lifted her arms over their shoulders and began to drag her back the way they came. "Dean, please!"

Horrified, Dean collapsed onto the floor.

"Please don't be real." He muttered to himself. "Please don't be real."

* * *

"They got Hermione."

Sam stared at his brother who was curled up in a chair, twitching slightly.

"They took her. Why did they take her?"

"Dean, are you okay?"

"No." Dean's green eyes glared at his brother accusingly. "It's your fault. I mean, it was never the demon blood, Sam. It was you. You're the monster!"

Sam flinched as the patients began to crowd around him.

"Freak!"

"Monster!"

"Your fault."

"No." Sam begged. Someone shoved him and he reacted, swinging wildly with his fists. "NO!"

From the corner of the day room, Dean watched his brother fight invisible people and clutched his knees to his chest, shivering.

"What's happening?" He begged.

* * *

"Eddie, we need to have a talk about your siblings." Dean glanced up at Dr Fuller and flinched.

"Why?" he rasped.

"I'm afraid they've only gone down hill since their arrival at this facility and we've had to isolate them."

Dean shook his head to try and concentrate.

"Why?" He managed.

"Your brother has severe rage issues. I'm afraid we're simply not well enough equipped to deal with the likes of him. As for Sophie, she's suffering extreme hallucinations and paranoia. We've had to keep her sedated after we found evidence of self harm. She's been carving words into her arm. I don't suppose you'd know anything about it."

"Uh...no."

"Right." Dr Fuller got to his feet, "Well, I'll leave you to it for now Eddie."

"Are they gonna be okay, doc?" He asked, hating the way his voice wavered.

The older man sighed.

"I really don't think so. I'm sorry."

* * *

Martin jerked upright in bed, swinging the silver plated blade. Dean flinched back.

"It's me! It's Dean!"

Martin dropped the knife.

"Oh, sorry." Dean turned away. "You look like hell, boy."

"I feel like it too." Dean said shakily.

"Where's Sam or Hermione?"

"On lock down. They went insane!"

"What?"

"I'm going crazy too!" He added fearfully. "I'm seeing things, hearing things. Hermione think she's back in the damn war, no one knows what's going on inside Sam's head." He paused before his eyes widened. "Crazy is the clue!" He declared.

"What do you mean?"

Dean glanced over his shoulder and because distracted by the pattern of light on the wall.

"Dean?"

"Crazy is the clue!" Dean yelped, snapping back to the conversation.

"You said that."

"Think about it. What we do for a living, we're bound to go crazy someday. No offence."

Martin blinked.

"None taken."

"But for all three of us to go nuts on the same day...I mean it's gotta be..." He trailed off staring out the window.

"The monster?"

Dean jumped, spinning to scan the room.

"What? Where?"

"No. There's nothing there." Martin assured him, now severely alarmed.

"Okay." Dean breathed deeply to get himself back under control. "What if this thing make people crazy, as well as sucking their brains out?" He faltered. "Does that seem possible?"

"Well...yeah. I suppose so."

"Okay. So we got infected, through touch or saliva or venom..." Dean paused. "That girl. The one who kisses everyone. She kissed Sam, she kissed me yesterday. Maybe she got 'Mione too." For a second Dean expression cleared. "Why did I have to miss that?" He mumbled.

"Focus, Dean."

"Oh, right. Wendy. We need to go see Wendy."

* * *

Wendy was splayed on her back on the bed, the nurse who'd admitted them crouched over her. Her wrists had been slit and as Dean watched the nurse pulled a long spike from the girl's neck.

"Is this real?" Dean begged, utterly confused.

The nurse smirked.

"Very real." She assured him. Dean and Martin stared at her in horror as she licked the spike clean of brain fluid before it slid back into her arm. She attacked them before Dean ever registered her moving, a flying punch sending him crashing into the wall. Martin managed to slice at her with the knife and she hissed as the cut bubbled and burned. She backhanded him before she fled the room, slamming the door behind her.

"You gotta get after her, Dean." Martin urged, pushing to his feet. "Dean!"

Somehow Dean made it out of the room, dodging the orderlies who went after Martin. There were blood splatters on the floor and he followed them woozily to the solitary confinement area. Only two of the rooms were in use, one was silent and the other vibrated as its lights flickered.

"'Mione?" he asked blearily.

Dean heard Sam cry out and threw himself through the first door. The Wraith paused, spike an inch away from Sam's neck.

"Get away from Sammy!" He yelled, even as he swayed on the spot.

She smiled.

"You really think this is going to end well for you?"

"No?" Dean offered.

She rolled her eyes and knocked the silver plated scalpel from his hands. She slammed him against the wall and Dean saw stars as his head bounced against the padded material. The Wraith got a hand around his throat and pinned him there, raising her other arm. That bone spike extended again and Dean grabbed her arm, trying to force her away from him. She just chuckled and extended it another few inches so it almost brushed his forehead. For a second they were evenly matched, then Dean switched his grip from her arm to the spike and _yanked_. The spike came apart in a spurt of blood and, disgusted, Dean dropped it on the floor. The Wraith howled, holding her wrist to her chest. Dean ducked under her, snatched up the knife and drove it straight into her heart. For a moment she stood there gasping, as the sound of sizzling flesh filled the air. Then she fell back, and slid down the wall.

Dean paused as his vision steadied.

"You still crazy?" Sam asked from the bed.

"Nope. You?" Dean started unbuckling the straps holding Sam down.

"I'm good, where's Hermione?"

"Next door." The alarm went off and the brother looked at each other. "We need to go."

Hermione was slumped in the corner of her room, unconscious. Several panals had been ripped from the walls and the light boxes had been shattered, tough plexiglass dented as though someone had thrown a great weight at them.

"When she said insane witches were dangerous..." Sam murmured, scooping her up in his arms.

"No time. Come on, Sam!"

They ran full pelt out the nearest emergency exit, heading for the parking lot where Dean had stashed the Impala, Hermione now thrown over Sam's massive shoulders, her head bouncing like a rag doll's. Dean opened the back door and Sam laid her down gently across the back seat.

"How much did they give her?" He asked.

"I don't know. She'll wake up eventually. Can we just get out of here?"

Sam didn't move.

"Sam, you okay?"

"No. No. The Wraith..."

"What, Sam?"

"She was right."

"No, she wasn't. She's dead." Dean pressed, incredulous. "We need to go. I don't want Hermione waking up here. She might blow up the car or something."

"I try to hide it," Sam continued as though he hadn't spoken. "I am angry. I'm mad at everything. First I was mad at you and Dad, and then it was Lilith and Ruby and now it's Lucifer. I can't control it, Dean. It's not the demon blood or anything else, it's me. It's inside me. I am furious, constantly and I don't know why."

"Stop." Dean ordered. "Stop it. So what if you are angry? What are you gonna do about it? Stop hunting? Say yes to Lucifer?"

"No, Dean..."

"Exactly. You wanna know why 'Mione and me don't talk about our feelings? Why we won't tell people about things? Because it's the only way we can keep functioning. You bury it, you bury every fucking thing and you forget about it, because _that's _how we keep going, all right? That's how we don't end up a drooling mess like Martin. Got it?"

"Dean..."

"Sam, do you get it?" He begged.

Sam sighed and nodded.

"Sure."

"Then let's get the hell out of here."

* * *

Hermione began to stir about three hours later, when there was two hundred miles between them and Glenfield Psychiatric. She woke slowly, pulling herself up right. Dean glanced over his shoulder at her.

"You okay?"

Hermione frowned and shook her head slightly, evidently too tired to bother lying.

"What happened?" She asked, voice rough.

Dean explained and she nodded, following easily.

"She wasn't real? Bellatrix...she wasn't real?"

Sam was long since asleep in the passenger seat so Dean didn't have any problems with answering her question.

"No. You believe me?"

She held his gaze in the rear view mirror for a long moment before she nodded.

"I've got two hours before I need to head to work." She mumbled. "Can't believe I spent my weekend chasing Wraiths in a mental ward."

Dean grimaced.

"Don't." He begged.

"Don't what?"

"Don't go to work. Not today. You're a mess, we all are. The last thing you need is to go to work. Please."

Hermione gave him a grim smile.

"I'm sorry, Dean." She whispered.

* * *

"You cannot go on like this." The angel told her a week later as he was healing a cut on her shoulder. The press of his Grace against her skin was familiar now, but it still raised the hairs on her arms. She clasped the hand that rested on his knee and smiled.

"I'll be fine, Castiel."

"You should not lie to an angel." He told her conspiratorially, before he frowned. "You are a lot more physically affectionate with me."

"I'm your friend." She explained tiredly. "Physical contact conveys closeness and comfort."

"But Sam and Dean..."

"Are men. They show it differently. Look..." She waved a hand around her. "Humans need contact. It's why we..." She broke off.

"Dean hugs you, doesn't he? Or touches your shoulder occasionally?"

Castiel nodded.

"It's for the same reason I do it. We need contact to prove we're still standing. It grounds us."

He frowned thoughtfully.

"Nonetheless my original point still stands. You will exhaust yourself. You _are_ exhausting yourself."

Hermione sighed.

"I'll be fine." She repeated. "I'm on top of it. It's only the end of the world after all."

* * *

"We need these reports by this weekend."

"Yes, sir." Hermione abandoned the proposals for the werewolf sanctuaries she'd been working on and pulled the reports towards her, twirling her quill between her fingers.

* * *

"We've got serious ghost activity going on. EMF's off the chart. As far as the history goes there's been sever murders in this house." Sam scowled. "And none of them were buried. Yay!"

Dean sighed.

"Nothin's ever simple. You gonna be all right?"

Hermione nodded.

"Sure."

* * *

"Granger, we need you to pull overtime and sit in on the Manticore trials."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

"Duck!"

Hermione spun, ducking under Sam's arm as he swung the iron bar through the ghost. Salt poured from her wand as she cast a wide circle around them.

"Where's Dean?" She demanded, panting.

* * *

"Presenting the case against the accused, Department Member Hermione Granger..."

* * *

"I'm aware these questions are a little strange, but it helps the Bureau get a full view of events..."

* * *

"I need you to go to the Goblin Liaison Office..."

* * *

"Hermione, can you pass me those salt rounds?"

* * *

"Centaur herd on Iona..."

* * *

"Demons in Wisconsin..."

* * *

"Reports!"

* * *

"Hermione!"

* * *

"Granger!

* * *

"I quit."

* * *

_**A/N**_

_**This chapter took a little longer, but it is our longest so far. So that's something.  
**_

_**Please please let me know what you thought of this chapter. It's really motivational. **_

_**Special thanks go to:**_

_**Terrance Rogue, ChelsMels, meldz (be nice), Zombie Rayne (I promise no triangles), Weasleychick32, Nightgigjo, LeonaBlack931, BrightStar (I did, it was awesome) and NorthernLights25**_

_**Hood.**_

_**Also anyone who might follow me on tumblr will have seen my pictures from Glasgow Comic Con. It was undoubtedly the best day of my year. Someone asked if I wanted pie, and I found a Sam and I had my picture taken with a lot of Castiel's when mine wandered off. She came back. I even had fun in the cue, because we sang "be a man" from Mulan at the top of our voices. So kudos to that!**_


	15. The Song Remains The Same

Startled brown eyes stared at her.

"What?" He barked.

"I quit. I can't do this any more." Hermione sighed, running her hands through her hair. It charged with static as she did so and hung about her face in a frizzy cloud that captured her currant mood perfectly. "I'm killing myself."

Kingsley Shacklebolt leaned back in his chair and stared at her. The Minister for Magic had always gotten on well with Hermione. They were both people who appreciated hard work and dedication as much as loyalty. That they were both Order Members merely meant that they generally wanted the same things. Outside of work they were...friends, or in as much as Hermione was friends with anyone at the moment. She knew what she was saying probably sounded insane to him.

"We've been getting reports..." the wizard said slowly. "Of you frequently arriving late for work or even failing to turn up completely. I even have a letter from one of the Healers on floor three, whose requested you be given sick leave. She thinks you've been running yourself off your feet. Several people have expressed concern that you're under too much stress since your parent's...death. Others believe you've gotten yourself into some trouble, citing multiple bruises and injuries which can not be accounted for within the Department."

She flinched at the implication.

"They think Ron..."

"I'm simple informing you of the reports."

She shook her head.

"It's nothing like that, I promise you. But as for the stress... well, they wouldn't be wrong." Hermione eyed the chair in front of Kingsley's desk but stopped herself from sitting down. If she did, she wouldn't leave and she _had_ to leave even if she had to call Castiel to drag her out. "I'm sorry about the short notice but..." She pushed the letter closer to the Minister, nervous eyes picking out a crease in the envelope where she'd been twisting it between her fingers. "I've cleared out my desk and um..." she winced, hating the uncertainty in her voice. "I'm going to leave now."

She was almost at the door when he called after her.

"Why? You were on track for the top. Bullwinkle was saying you'd be Head of the Department in five years, Minister for Magic when I retired."

Hermione flushed under the praise and the knowledge of everything she was throwing away. Her boss wasn't known to say things he didn't mean.

_Ex_-boss, she reminded herself.

"It's important." She murmured quietly, refusing to turn around.

Kingsley snorted.

"What's so important that the Brightest Witch of the Age has given up the most promising career the Ministry has seen in years?"

She studied the carpet intently for a moment, before she glanced over her shoulder.

"The end of the world." She said at last, smiling ruefully. Kingsley appeared shocked, but he didn't question her on it, for which she was grateful.

"And Aurors Potter and Weasley?"

Harry and Ron were on assignment in Egypt and wouldn't be home for weeks, longer if their mission ran overtime.

"I'd like this kept quiet, Minister. I will tell them when I'm ready."

She left Kingsley shaking his head and wandered out of the Ministry wondering if she'd done the right thing.

* * *

It took four days of continuous contact before Dean finally realised that it was a Thursday and she hadn't left their side once.

"When are you heading home again?" Dean asked, in the middle of ordering pizza.

"When we're done here." She shrugged, turning the page. "It doesn't matter, Dean."

He stared at her, phone hanging loosely from one hand.

"Don't you have work tomorrow?"

"I quit." Hermione murmured.

Dean blanched and dropped into the chair by her side.

"What? Why?"

Hermione looked up from her book.

"This is more important and besides..." She smiled at him and he felt that rush of warmth in his chest. "You need me."

"Hermione, I thought you liked working there..."

"Dean..." she begged.

"No." He snapped. "We're talking about this. You had a job, Hermione. You were normal!"

"No." she pressed. "I wasn't. I was pretending to be normal. I was getting nowhere and really, I had better things to be focusing on."

"Like what?"

"LIKE KEEPING YOU ALIVE!" Hermione roared, eyes blazing. _"That's _my main focus here, Winchester. Helping you two defeat Lucifer and making sure you both survive!"

"And what about you?" Dean yelled back.

"What about me?" She cried. "You don't get it, do you? You two are the heroes. You're the ones who are important. Who have destinies."

"You've got a destiny. You've got that damn prophecy you won't tell me about."

Hermione drew in a deep breath.

"And I am dealing with it. So just...leave it, Dean. Please?"

"Hermione..."

She grabbed her coat and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

"What's wrong?"

Hermione glanced up at Sam and shrugged, threading her fingers through the long grass.

"Dean say something?" Sam offered.

She made a vague noise of agreement and Sam sat down next to her on the ground.

"Was he being a dick or..."

"I quit my job."

Sam gaped at her.

"What?"

"I left. Packed up. Finished...whatever."

"No, I get that. What I mean is why?"

"I'm busy." She waited while he digested that. "And if you're going to give me a lecture about ruining my life, don't bother, I believe Dean already covered it."

The younger Winchester sighed.

"I'm sorry."

She stared at him.

"Why? You didn't make me."

"I suppose, but you do a lot for us and...I didn't want you to have to give up any more." He looked her over. "You've changed."

"We all change, Sam. Called evolving." She sighed. "But I know what you mean. I'm not that Hermione Granger any more. I haven't been for a long time."

* * *

Hermione slept in the Impala that night, much to Dean's annoyance, which was why she missed Dean sitting bolt upright in the middle of the night and yelling for Castiel.

"CAS!"

Sam jerked awake, reaching automatically for his gun.

"What the hell?" He mumbled when no danger became apparent.

"I had a dream." Dean snapped and sighing, Sam swung his legs out of bed.

"I'll go get 'Mione."

"Don't. If you wake her up she'll punch you in the face." Dean paused. "And if she sees me she'll punch me too. Why did we teach her to fight again?" He asked. Sam shrugged. "Cas," He decided turning to the angel who'd appeared in a quiet flap of wings. "Go wake up 'Mione."

Castiel vanished for a moment before he reappeared with Hermione leaning against him heavily. Sleepily, she shuffled over to Dean's bed and sank down on it, one hand rubbing the other.

"You punch Cas?" Sam offered sympathetically, tossing her one of his hoodies. Hermione pulled it on gratefully and didn't respond. "Dean had a dream."

"About?" Castiel demanded.

Dean flushed.

"Don't matter. What's important is Anna turned up."

"The angel?" Hermione asked sharply as Castiel froze.

"Yeah. She said Cas stuck her in jail." Dean turned to the angel. "That true?"

Castiel fiddled with his trench coat, a sure sign that he was nervous.

"I had not rebelled." He offered as an explanation. "I simply followed orders. I...regret my actions now."

"We know." Hermione sighed, rubbing at her eyes with sleeve covered hands. "Did she want something?"

"She wanted to meet up at some warehouse. Two-two-five Industrial, I think."

"That sounds safe." Sam murmured.

"You're not going." Castiel growled. They all stared at him and Dean rolled his eyes when the angel offered no expansion.

"Well, all right Commander Spock. Wanna tell me why?"

Castiel frowned in frustration.

"I don't understand that reference." he sighed. "Hermione, keep them here." the angel vanished.

"Douche." Dean muttered.

"If it helps," Hermione murmured. "He was truly sorry about it."

"How can you tell?" Sam asked doubtfully.

"Angels don't express emotions on their faces. I don't think they're used to having them. But their wings..." She trailed off, shrugging as she picked at the cuffs of Sam's hoodie.

Sam glared at his brother.

"_What?_" Dean mouthed.

"_Apologise._" Sam mimed.

Dean made an obscene gesture over Hermione's head that did nothing to change Sam's expression of irritated expectation.

"Hey, Hermione..."

"Mmm."

Dean sighed and gave in.

"I'm sorry." He murmured. Hermione glanced up sharply and stared at him.

"What for?" She asked.

"You know..."

"Be specific." She ground out and he groaned.

"You're gonna make me work for this, aren't you?" She smirked and he rolled his eyes again. "Being a dick. I had no right..."

"Exactly." Hermione got to her feet, even though it did little to lessen her height disadvantage and stared at him defiantly. "You had no right. It's my life, Dean Winchester. I'll do with it as I choose." she sighed. "But apology accepted."

* * *

"She is trying to kill Sam." Castiel turned to Hermione. "I may have doubted your methods in the past, but I concede your point. He is necessary."

Hermione nodded and ignored the suspicious look the brothers gave her.

"Hang on." Dean blurted. "Anna, the angel, wants to kill Sam?"

"Technically she wants to obliterate him." Castiel glanced at Sam. "Do not worry. I made my feelings on the notion perfectly clear."

"Uh...thanks Cas." Sam frowned. "Why does she want to kill me? What more damage could I possibly do?"

"She wants to stop you saying yes."

"Anna?" Dean repeated. "Really?"

Castiel produced a brass bowl, several pieces of chalk and various substances Hermione couldn't name from his pockets and began to sketch on a nearby table.

"What if she's right?" Sam argued after several minutes of silence passed, looking particularly morose. "What if the best way to stop Lucifer is to kill me?"

"_Silencio._"

Sam opened his mouth and began a string of what looked like swearwords that no one could hear.

"You have got to teach me how to do that." Dean grinned. Hermione ignored him.

"Shut up, Sam. Just shut up. I don't care if it works, I don't care if it's the best shot we've got, _you _are not dying. Got it?"

Sam glared at her and Dean took the opportunity to yell at his brother without being interrupted.

"Besides it's a crazy plan and it wouldn't work. Would it, Cas?"

"Uh...no." Castiel didn't look up from his summoning ritual. "She's...uh...insane, as you say."

"I don't know if you realise, Sam, but you are one of the few members of family I have left." Hermione spat. "So anyone who wants to get to you has to get through me and Dean and Cas and even then you are _not_ going to lie down and take it!" She cancelled the spell and grabbed her bag, heading to the bathroom to change.

* * *

"So where are we going?" Hermione asked, settling on a bed to pull on her boots.

"1978."

Hermione stared Castiel before she remembered what Dean had said about time travelling.

"Why then?"

"She's after our parents." Dean told her bitterly, already throwing weapons into a bag. "That way Sam will never be born and Lucifer will never get a vessel."

"Can you do it?" She asked Castiel. His wings fluttered nervously behind him, half open.

"I don't have the full power of Heaven behind me. I would be better to go alone."

"They're our parents!" Dean snapped. "We're going."

"Can you carry three?" Hermione asked, tying her bootlace.

Castiel grimaced.

"With your help, perhaps. But it'll be dangerous. Grace and magic aren't supposed to mix."

"Then we'll work around it." She assured him. "You two ready?"

"We need more Holy Oil." Dean murmured. "You got that angel blade of yours?"

Hermione nodded and pulled Simiel from its holster. She frowned, tracing the edge of the blade with her finger.

"What?" Castiel growled.

"Nothing." She gave him a quick smile. "We're fine."

* * *

They appeared in the middle of a busy street and only Sam's quick thinking kept them from becoming road kill. Carefully, they headed for the pavement.

"Did we make it?" Sam asked.

Dean scoffed.

"Unless they're bringing Pinto's back into production, I'd say yes."

"Castiel!" Hermione yelled, springing forwards.

Slumped against a nearby parked car, Castiel was bleeding from his nose, a slow steady drip which left spots on his trench coat.

"Cas?" Hermione shook him gently.

"You okay?" Dean demanded.

"I'm fine." He coughed. "Hermione's presence helped." He coughed again and Dean helped him lean forward so he could spit out the blood. Castiel's eyes closed and he fell limp in Dean's hold. Sam moved forward, holding one hand above Castiel's nose.

"He's breathing." He confirmed. "Barely."

* * *

Dean took Castiel in to the nearest motel and Hermione collapsed onto the first bench she found.

"You all right?" Sam asked nervously. "Cas said you were helping."

"A little. He took the brunt of it." She yawned. "I need food." Sam rummaged in his pocket and produced a half eaten chocolate bar which she devoured gratefully. "My magic...it's not really in a form Cas can use. So he sort of...skimmed it. I don't know how to describe it to a muggle." she allowed him to pull her to her feet. "I should be fine to do a location spell though."

"Why would we need that?" Sam chuckled.

"To find your parents?" She eyed him as though he'd gone insane and despite the seriousness of the situation, he laughed.

"Or," He teased, lifting the large phone book. "We could look in here."

"Oh."

* * *

"Winchester central," Sam announced as they stared at the small house. "Four-eight-five Robintree."

"Why not have more streets?"

They stared at her.

"What?" Dean managed.

Hermione shrugged, going slightly pink.

"This is house number four hundred and eighty five. Why not just have more streets?"

Sam rolled his eyes, stowing the scrap of paper away.

"Is this gonna turn into one of your, "_I think American's are dumb_" speeches?"

"It might." She acknowledged reluctantly.

"So how are we going in?"

Dean grimaced.

"I dunno. Wanna come meet our folks?" He said to Hermione.

"Doesn't she already know you?" Sam pointed out.

"Yeah, as a hunter who disappeared after her dad died. Not helpful, Sammy." Dean chewed his lip for a moment. "Just...follow my lead."

Exchanging doubtful looks behind his back, Sam and Hermione followed Dean across the street.

* * *

"Hi Mary."

Hermione had never seen a woman's face drain of blood so fast. Mary was a small woman, with blonde hair which had been curled stylishly around a pretty face with hard eyes.

"You can't be here!" Mary hissed.

"I'm sorry if this is a bad time but..."

"No, you don't understand. I'm not..." Hermione elbowed Sam hard to get him to stop staring at his mother and Mary continued, frowning. "I don't do _that _any more. I have a normal life now. You three can't stay." she tried to slam the door, but Dean held it open.

"I'm sorry, Mo..Mary. But this is important. Please, you've got to listen to us."

"Who is it?" Someone called and there was about three seconds in which Mary expression changed from scared through annoyed and on to resigned. A man pushed the door open and for the first time Hermione met John Winchester. He was taller than Mary, but nowhere near Sam's height, with dark brown hair and blue eyes. He smiled at them happily and Hermione only just caught the flinch that went through both Winchesters.

"Sorry, sweetie," Mary smiled up at her husband. "They're just..."

"Mary's cousins." Dean bluffed, holding out his hand.

John shook it and nodded, whilst Mary glared daggers at both of her sons.

"We couldn't help swinging by and saying _"Hi"_ now could we?" He grinned. "I'm Dean, this is my brother Sam and my...er...Hermione."

Sam broke his stare to turn to his brother in shock. Hermione watched as Dean's ears went red with no small amount of amusement.

"I'm sure we've met somewhere..." John queried, settling an arm around his wife.

"Uh...small towns. Probably have." Dean smiled nervously.

"I'm John. You know, Mary's dad was a Sam."

"Er, yeah." Sam grimaced. "Family name."

"You okay? You look a little...?"

"We've had a long trip," Hermione broke in. "He's just tired."

Both John and Mary stared at her and Hermione remembered why she was supposed to keep her mouth shut around strangers. Nothing stood out like an English accent in the middle of America. She winced at Dean's expression.

"Er, they were just going." Mary prompted, renewing her grip on the door. "Got a long way to go."

"Why don't you stay a bit?" John asked eagerly. "I love to meet folks from Mary's side. Come on in!"

"Twist my arm." Dean said and let the way past Mary into their home.

* * *

Hermione kicked Sam for the third time that minute in an attempt to get him to blink. He hadn't taken his eyes off his mother since she'd opened the door and Mary was starting to look disturbed.

"You have a lovely home." Hermione provided, when no one else seemed willing to say anything.

"Er, thanks." Mary frowned. "Where are you from?"

"London, originally."

"You okay, buddy?"

Sam jerked at John's voice.

"Er, yeah...sorry...it's just..."

"You're the spitting image of his mother." Hermione told Mary, sinking her fingernails into Sam's arm. "It''s a bit disconcerting for him."

"So how are you related to Mary?" John asked as Sam winced.

Dean swallowed.

"Oh, uh, pretty distantly. Second cousins an' all that."

John frowned.

"But you knew her parents?"

"Oh, yeah. Sam was like a grandfather to us."

Hermione closed her eyes and wished she was somewhere else.

"It was tragic that heart attack. So sudden." Mary flinched and John took her hand. "So, what are you guys doing in town anyway?"

"Business." Dean grimaced.

"What sort?"

"Plumbing!" Sam blurted.

Hermione debated the ethics of silencing both of them as Mary got to her feet.

"Would you look at the time? I've got to start dinner soon and..."

"I'll give you a hand!"

Hermione ushered the startled blonde woman into the kitchen and was unsurprised when she went straight for the knife block.

"You need to leave." Mary hissed. Back in the sitting room Hermione could hear the low rumble of Sam and Dean talking to their father.

"Mary, you're in danger."

"What?"

Deftly, Hermione removed the carving knife from Mary's loose fingers, setting it gingerly on the table.

"There's something after you and John." She pressed, keeping her voice down.

"A demon?"

The phone rang and Hermione dimly registered John getting up to answer it.

"No. An angel."

Mary laughed.

"There's no such thing."

"Actually, there is." Dean leaned against the door frame. "Most of them are a bunch of dicks too and of course, they're twice as strong as demons."

Mary gaped at them.

"What would they want with me?"

Hermione exchanged a long look with Sam and Dean.

"Listen...we'll explain. Or Dean will, it'll be better coming from him. But we need to get you and John somewhere safe."

Mary looked from Hermione to Dean and then to Sam, before she sighed.

"You're not lying, are you?"

"Not about this."

Mary nodded and bit her lip.

"Here." She snatched a worn piece of paper off the fridge and shoved it at Hermione. "In case John wonders what we're doing in the kitchen."

Nonplussed, Hermione slipped the paper into her pocket.

"Where is John, anyway?" Sam asked.

"He went to answer the phone..." Mary pushed passed them into the hall. There was a notepad hung on the wall from a hook and Mary traced the letters with her finger, "He's gone."

"We need to find him." Dean barked. "Where would he go?"

* * *

"You stay back!" Hermione ordered Mary when she rushed forward to help John.

"That's my husband." The blonde snapped.

"Do you want him to know that you can fight?" Hermione pushed in front of her, drawing Simiel. "Get John to safety. I'll deal with Anna." She waited until Dean moved into position before she circled back around Anna.

"I wish I could say it was good to see you." Dean grimaced.

"You too, Dean." Anna said sadly.

He raised Castiel's blade to strike and Anna moved, ducking under Dean's guard to send him flying through a window. She whirled only to find Hermione standing behind her. Hermione slammed the butt of Simiel's blade into Anna's head, knocking her to the side. The angel kicked out and Hermione leaped backwards.

"Stay away from them!" Hermione warned, drawing her wand.

"This is the only way!" Anna shouted. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione spied Sam, palm dripping as he smeared blood on the wall. "You can't stop an angel."

Sam laughed.

"No. But we can distract you!"

He slammed his palm into the sidgil, banishing Anna in a brilliant blaze of light.

* * *

The Campbell safe house was everything a hunter could ever want in a home. Iron fittings, devils traps and a large stock of salt and Holy Water. They stood in the sitting room as Dean barked out orders.

"Sam, get the Holy Oil down. Hermione, I need you to ward this place." Hermione nodded and Mary, unwilling to stay near her fuming husband, followed her outside the house.

"What are you doing?" She asked as Hermione drew her wand.

"Ward scheme." Hermione murmured. "I'm a sorceress and this keeps out ninety percent of things trying to find us."

"Oh."

Mary watched in silence as Hermione erected wards, walking in a slow perimeter around the house.

"So, what're you doing with Hunters?"

Hermione looked at her strangely before she shrugged.

"There's a prophecy. I'm supposed to save Dean from the end of the world." Hermione gave her a strained smile. "But no one knows how, so until I figure it out, I follow them around and do my best to keep them alive."

"What if you get hurt?"

"Bit late for that." She met the woman's hopeful expression with her own resigned one. "To be honest, Mary, I'm not expecting to survive the next six months."

"What about your family?" Mary asked, shocked.

Hermione dropped her wand to her side.

"Killed by demons a while ago. I've got friends back in England, or I will in a few years." She chuckled emptily. "None of them know what I do. I quit my job last week."

Mary grabbed her arm, wheeling her around to face her.

"I'm so sorry about your family." She whispered and Hermione could see where Dean got his eyes from. "I know how that feels."

"How far along are you?" Hermione asked suddenly. Mary flinched back, one hand reflexively covering her stomach.

"Not long." She murmured, eyeing Hermione suspiciously. "How did you know?"

"I counted." She gave a grim smile and finished the wards. "Didn't occur to the boys of course, but then I suppose it's more of a woman's thing to worry about. Why do you think I wouldn't let you go after Anna? Can't risk something happening to the little one."

"Counting?" Mary stuttered. "How the hell did you know? You promised you'd tell me what was going on and..."

"Go see Dean." Hermione ordered. "This is his story to tell, or Sam's I suppose." she mumbled.

* * *

"You said you'd explain." Mary snapped, arms folded. "Explain."

Hermione winced when Dean looked at her desperately and went to stand guard at the window.

"Why me specifically?" Mary added.

"Because they're dicks?" Dean offered hopefully.

Mary glared at him.

"Nice try."

Dean sighed.

"Listen, you're just going to have to trust me..."

"I've been trusting you all day."

"You wouldn't believe me."

"All right then. I'm leaving."

She turned away and headed for the door. Dean sent Hermione a desperate glance, which she ignored. He sighed and called,

"I'm your son."

Mary stared at him and Hermione only just caught the twitch as she tried to rest her hand on her stomach.

"What?"

Dean winced.

"I'm your son. I'm sorry, I didn't know how to say it. Me and Sam, we're from the year 2010. An angel, a good one, zapped us back here so we could stop Anna."

Mary shook her head.

"No. That's impossible."

"Our names are Dean and Sam Winchester. We're named after your parents. When I would get sick, you'd make me tomato-rice soup, because that's what your mom made you. And when I couldn't sleep, you'd sing me "_Hey Jude_"" He glanced at Hermione for a second. "Because it's your favourite Beatles song and it's the only thing that can get a Winchester to sleep. I used to sing it to Sammy when he was a baby."

A tear slipped down the side of her face.

"No, no, no..."

"I'm sorry." Hermione broke in. "But you know it's true, Mary. Dean's thirty one years old, roughly at least. In a few months he'll be born and..."

"How could I do that?" Mary begged, pointing at Dean. "How could I raise them to be hunters?"

"You don't." Dean murmured and Mary's eyes jumped to him. "You don't raise us. You died and Dad raised us."

Mary paled and covered her mouth with her hands, eyes full of tears. Dean sighed before he continued.

"When Sam was six months old exactly, November second, 1983, the yellow-eyed demon, the same one who killed my grandfather, kills you when you go into Sam's nursery. Dad became a hunter to get revenge. But you've got to promise me, mom. Please don't go in there."

"That's not going to be enough." Sam murmured as he leaned against the door frame, eyes never leaving Mary. "He's gonna find us no matter where she goes."

"Then what's she supposed to do?"

"Leave dad."

Hermione closed her eyes and breathed out slowly.

"She can't, Sam."

They turned to look at her, realisation slowly dawning in Dean's eyes.

"In a few months?" He repeated. "She's already..."

Hermione nodded and he paled.

"So I'm..." he gestured at Mary stomach and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Yes."

"So there's nothing we can do."

Sam frowned.

"She can still leave John. The first seal would never be broken if you didn't have me."

Dean and Mary stared at Sam aghast.

"What? It's true." He argued. "None of this would happen if I hadn't been born. If she leaves John now, she'll never die. You'll get your mom."

"Yeah, but I'll lose you." Dean argued.

"Hey, we got a problem."

Everyone turned and stared at John in a sort of dazed confusion.

"The blood things, the sidgils...they're gone!"

"As in..." Hermione asked.

"I drew one on the back of the door. I turned around and when I looked back again it was just a smudge."

Hermione apparated to the nearest sidgil, unwilling to waste time walking.

"He's right." She called.

Somewhere else in the house Mary shouted,

"The Holy Oil's gone too."

The windows began to rattle as the light bulbs shattered in their sockets. Hermione appeared behind Dean's shoulder, angel blade and wand drawn. It was dark and Hermione only just made out the figure who appeared in the house's kitchen.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean demanded.

The angel moved closer and smiled coldly.

"My name is Uriel."

Dean and Sam both backed away.

"Oh, come on." Sam muttered, making sure Mary and John were safely behind them. Anna appeared in the other doorway, effectively cornering them.

"Here goes nothin'," Dean murmured.

He and Hermione stepped forward simultaneously, angel blades raised. Uriel anticipated the move and waved Hermione to the side, sending her crashing into the wall. Sam snatched up her fallen angel blade as Dean attempted to slice at Uriel's stomach. Anna took advantage of Sam's hesitation and appeared in front of John, sending him flying through the wall and out into the garden. Sam tried to stab her, but Anna caught the blow on her arm and pushed him back. Hermione got to her feet and sent a barrage of spells flying at the angel. Anna skidded backwards into the wall, causing the plaster to crack and fall away exposing the pipes beneath. The witch didn't move back in time to avoid the length of pipe swung at her head. It connected and she felt the pain of her flesh parting under the jagged edge. Blood filled her vision and she stumbled. In the next swing, Anna knocked the blade from Sam's hand and drew the pipe back.

"SAM!" Hermione reached forward to drag him out of the way, but Anna's angelic speed won out and she drove the iron pipe straight through Sam's ribs. Hermione scrambled towards him to help but Anna grabbed her by the back of her jacket. Hermione went spinning through the air and connected with the figure who appeared in the doorway.

It was like hitting a steel wall and Hermione felt several things crack before she fell to the floor to lay in a sprawled heap. Dimly she was aware of Dean yelling Sam's name and of Anna apologising to Mary.

The figure she'd hit moved into the light and Hermione's vision swam as she took in the massive silver wings curling around the body of John Winchester.

"Michael." She gasped.

The Archangel glanced down at her in disgust and offered a stray kick at her stomach, which drove the air from her lungs. Groaning, she curled around herself as he stepped towards Anna.

"Anna."

"Michael."

Hermione forced her eyes open in time to see Anna burn alive under the sheer power from Michael's grace. Mary didn't have time to move before he pressed two fingers to her forehead and she crumpled to the floor unconscious.

"Uriel." Michael greeted.

The other angel released Dean and stepped back.

"I didn't know..."

"Goodbye, Uriel."

Michael snapped his fingers and Uriel vanished. Hermione watched as the Archangel turned to Dean, a slight smile on John Winchester's face.

"I'd say this conversation is long overdue, wouldn't you?"

"Fix him?" Dean demanded, pointing to Sam.

"Talk first." Michael smirked. "Then you can have your precious Sammy."

"How'd you get in my dad anyway?"

"I told him I'd save his wife. It doesn't take a lot to manipulate humans."

"I guess they really oversold how unique I was." Dean muttered.

"Oh, don't worry. You're still my true vessel. You're just not the only one."

"What's that supposed to me?"

Hermione tried to draw in a breath to speak, but her lungs refused to hold enough air for her to form words. A small moan left her lips and Dean's eyes jumped to her.

"'Mione!"

Michael held him back.

"Leave her be." His his curled. "She's not supposed to be here anyway. As for the vessel, it's more of a blood line than a specific person. Stretching all the way back to Cain and Able in fact."

"I don't care." Dean snapped.

"I'm trying to make you understand..."

"Oh, I understand plenty. You fell out with your brother and you guys don't talk so much any more. Who cares? Get some damn therapy instead of destroying the planet."

"Don't mock me." Michael hissed. "I don't want to kill my brother. I raised him, I loved him...but I _am_ going to kill him, because it's what my Father ordered."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, Daddy's little soldier. Well, that's a dead end street. Take it from me."

"You think you know better than my Father?" Michael sneered. "You. One unimportant little man. What makes you think you get the right to choose?"

"Because I got the right to live my own damn life the way I choose!"

Michael turned away, staring out the window.

"You really think so? Do you know how impossible it is that you were born? Do you think that just _happened_? Everything about your life was planned, from your birth to your death. You don't get a choice because no matter what you do you'll always end up here."

"You know your brother said the same thing to me." Dean grumbled. "You gonna let my dad go?"

"He'll be better than new." Michael smiled. "And I'll do you a favour."

"What?" Dean asked warily.

"I'm going to scrub their minds. They won't remember a thing."

"You can't do that!"

"I can."

"She's going to walk straight into the nursery!" Dean protested.

Michael laughed.

"Obviously." He crouched down by Sam's side and the hunter's body vanished, the pipe he'd been impaled on hitting the ground with a clang.

"Sam!"

"He's safe." Michael stood and moved closer to Dean. "Safe and sound. Your turn. I'll see you soon, Dean."

Hermione met Dean's eyes for a second before he vanished, leaving her alone in the room with his unconscious mother and the Archangel.

* * *

John and Mary, utterly confused about how they came to be in the Campbell's safe house, helped Hermione gather up her stuff before they drove her to the hospital.

Mary sat with her as Hermione had her ribs taped up and chatted to her about mundane things Hermione couldn't believe the ex-hunter was actually interested in.

John dropped her off at the motel Castiel was holed up in and drove away, Impala gleaming brightly in the sunlight.

* * *

"Hermione!"

Hermione staggered, only just managing to hold up the angel.

"Help." She gasped.

Sam and Dean grabbed each of the angel's arms and dragged him over to the nearest bed.

"We thought you weren't going to make it back." Dean murmured, when it became obvious Castiel wasn't going to waken.

"We nearly didn't." Hermione told him grimly. "I'm..." She swayed and Dean grabbed her arm, moving her over to the nearest chair. She sank onto it gratefully. "Exhausted." She finished. "Cas didn't have enough grace. Took more out of me this time."

Sam frowned.

"But he had time to heal you?"

She stared at them flatly.

"He didn't heal me."

"Oh, then..."

"I've been gone for two months!" She snapped. "Everything healed the slow way."

"Shit." Sam breathed.

"Two months." Dean gaped at her. "What..."

"Castiel didn't wake up for a month." Hermione gave an irritable shrug. "It took a while before he was in any state to fly."

"I need a drink." Dean murmured, heading for the whiskey bottle.

Hermione made a vague sound of agreement and kicked Sam.

"Ow!"

"I've waited a long time to say this, Winchester, but _that_ was for trying to wipe yourself out of existence."

Sam rolled his eyes and smiled at her.

"Love you too."

"I know."

"So this it," Dean handed out the shot glasses. "Team Free Will. One ex-blood junkie, a witch with PTSD, a high school drop out with six buck to his name and Mr Comatose over there."

"That's not funny." Sam murmured.

"I'm not laughing."

Hermione downed her shot and slipped her hands into her jacket pocket. The crinkle of paper drew her attention and she pulled out the scrap of paper Mary had shoved at her. It had gone unread for so long that she'd completely forgotten about it. She unfolded it and smoothed it out against her thigh. It was stained and slightly greasy, but Hermione could still make out the words written in clear handwriting.

_Deanna's Pie Recipe_

Hermione laughed and then kept laughing as Sam and Dean stared at her.

"Welcome to the family." She murmured.

* * *

**_A/N_**

**_This was a bit like pulling teeth and it took the better part of two days. It's...three in the morning. Sigh._**

**_Let me know what you thought. This really wasn't my best work._**

**_Still, thank you to my reviewers and the ChelsMels, I'm fine. Don't worry. _**

**_Yawning,  
_**

**_Hood._**


	16. Bloody Valentine's

"Have you got a date this weekend?"

Hermione glanced up sharply and stared at Sam.

"What?"

"A date. You know, it's Valentine's Day..."

"Is it?" Hermione seemed genuinely surprised by that and Sam frowned.

"Isn't Ron planning on doing something about it?" He asked hopefully.

Hermione chuckled.

"That would be hard as he's on a case in Egypt right now. Besides none of us celebrate Valentine's day out of support for Harry."

"How come?"

A fond smile crossed her face.

"When we were in our second year, we had this teacher who, in retrospect, was a bit of a buffoon. I was acting rather...silly at the time," Hermione blushed and waved that aside. "But still. This teacher got it into his head to make the whole school celebrate Valentine's day, made him incredibly unpopular. He, um...painted the whole school pink and employed a group of dwarves to dress up as Cupid's and to wander the school delivering poems to people. One of them tackled Harry in a corridor and sat on him to force him to listen to the poem Ginny sent him."

Sam stared at her in disbelief.

"You're not serious."

"Unfortunately."

"How'd the poem go?"

Hermione smirked.

"_His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad, his hair is as black as a black, blackboard, I wish he was mine, he's simply divine, the hero who conquered the Dark Lord._"

Sam did his best not to laugh but wasn't exactly successful.

"Quite." Hermione agreed. "Coupled with an...unpleasant incident in his fifth year which involved a girl called Cho Chang and a particular reputation of mine and he rather went off the holiday."

Sam frowned.

"You have a reputation?"

"I don't know why that surprises you." Hermione sniffed. "In my fourth year a national magazine ran an article which painted me in a less than pleasant light."

"How unpleasant?"

"They called me a whore." Hermione said bluntly. "They accused me of breaking Harry's heart and using Victor to achieve fame and wealth. Then they called me ugly and accused me of using love potions. People sent me hate mail, teachers read it out in class...It was all forgotten eventually, but the girls at school had a much longer memory for that sort of thing."

"I guess." Sam frowned. "So you've never gotten a card or anything?"

Hermione stared at him in disbelief.

"Sam, I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly what the wizarding world considers attractive. I don't see how it surprising."

"Huh." He shook his head sadly. "Well, if you're not going home I found a case."

This time she smiled, moving closer so she could peer over his shoulder at his laptop.

"What's this then?"

"A couple ate each other to death...

Hermione's nose wrinkled.

"Tell me that's a metaphor." She begged.

"I wish."

Hermione sighed and flicked her wand, packing their bags with magic. Sam had to duck when one of Dean's shirts went flying over his head.

"Where's Dean?"

"Out."

Hermione spared him a glance and Sam grimaced.

"I don't know. I think he's trying to drown himself."

"Moron." She decided, fondly. "I'll fetch him."

* * *

"Want a drink?" Dean asked gruffly.

She eyed him with something close to disgust.

"No, thank you. Sam's found a case."

Dean sighed and dropped a couple of notes onto the bar before he stood.

"Keys." He demanded when they got through the door into the fresh air outside.

"What keys?" Hermione asked innocently.

"I know you've got them." He shoved a hand into his empty pocket to prove it and she held out the keys to the Impala, just out of his reach.

"You've been drinking." Hermione informed him, looking somewhat amused. "Sam can drive."

"Give me the keys." He held out his hand, glowering at her.

She smirked.

"Got to catch me first." She teased.

Dean started towards her and she twisted on the top, vanishing with a crack.

"THAT'S CHEATING!" He yelled. Several passers by gave him funny looks and he headed back to the motel, grumbling. "Stupid magic."

* * *

They split up when they reached the town and Hermione went to the coroner's office while Sam and Dean headed to interview the witnesses.

"I've been to too many of these places." Hermione mumbled as she followed the pathologist towards the morgue.

"What was that?"

She grimaced.

"Nothing. So what's the official cause of death?"

"Blood loss due to multiple wounds..." He smiled genially. "Although they may have died of horror too."

"What makes you say that?"

He beckoned her closer and Hermione fought down her nausea at seeing the bodies.

"The stomachs of both victims are full...of each other."

"They _literally_ ate each other?" She asked incredulous.

"Yes. Can't say I've seen anything like it." The older man paused and offered her a gentle smile. "This your first body, Agent Turner?"

"No." Hermione stepped back. "But it's definitely not my favourite part of this job."

* * *

Sam and Dean stood waiting for their food, the smell of grease and coffee circulating the air.

"So, you going out tonight?"

"Nah."

Sam almost dropped the plastic cutlery he was holding in shock.

"What? It's Valentine's weekend. What did you use to call it? Unattached drifter Christmas?"

A slight smile crossed Dean's face before he shook his head.

"Yeah. Not feelin' it this year, Sammy."

He paid for the food and tucked the paper bag under his arm as they walked to the car.

"This about the Apocalypse or 'Mione?"

"Dunno what you're talking about."

"I'm not an idiot, Dean. Just because she doesn't see it, doesn't mean I'm not blind." Sam ducked into the front seat, ignoring his brother's expression. "You know she doesn't do Valentine's day?"

"How come?"

"One of her friends had a hard time of it. Although she told me something else interesting. A national magazine once ran an article calling her a whore."

Dean stared at him.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah."

"A whore?"

"Yeah."

"Have they met her?" Dean turned his eyes back to the road. "She's got more class than...well..."

"Anyone we know." Sam confirmed. "You know what's worse?"

"What?"

"She was fifteen!" Sam shook his head sadly. "Apparently there were all these middle aged women sending her hate mail and stuff. It's crazy."

"As crazy as people eating themselves?"

Sam glanced at the paper bag of food regretfully.

"Ewww."

* * *

"So, how were they?" Hermione asked, gratefully taking the bag of food from Sam.

"She. One room mate. Apparently one of them was still chewing when she got there." Dean sighed.

"That fits. Both bodies were full of human flesh." She shook her head, handing out boxes. "Not a sight I'm ever going to be able to rid myself of, let me tell you."

Sam loaded up his laptop and started on his salad.

"So what do we do now?"

"Wait?" Hermione offered. "There's not much else we can do tonight."

A ringing phone interrupted them and all three began to pat down their pockets.

"It's me." Hermione announced, answering it. "Hello?"

Sam and Dean watched as she frowned.

"No. I haven't seen him in weeks, Gin." She paused. "Of course. No, I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help. I'm sure it'll be fine. Bye." She hung up. "That was strange."

"Strange-us strange or strange...I don't know any other kind of strange." Dean realised with a frown.

"That was Ginny. Apparently Harry got an owl from work, muttered something about me and ran out." She shrugged. "She thought I might have some idea what it was."

"Do you?" Sam asked.

"No. He'll let me know if he needs me."

"This is the same Ginny who made him hate Valentine's day?"

Hermione chuckled.

"That's her. She's Harry's girlfriend now. Ironically, she loves Valentine's day but Harry won't touch it with a barge pole. Which is why he's working."

* * *

There was another attack that night which found the hunters being roused late in the evening and dragging themselves to the local mortuary.

"You two take me to the nicest places." Hermione murmured as Sam and Dean began to scan through the Tupperware boxes of human organs from the recent victims.

"Since when are you squeamish?" Sam asked, amused.

Hermione scowled and began perusing the posters on the walls.

"Hey 'Mione?" She glanced over and Dean held up a heart. "Be my Valentine?" He offered.

She rolled her eyes and smiled.

"You're a pig." She told him congenially.

"What's that?" Sam took the heart from his other and held it up. Printed onto the flesh was a symbol. "Hermione can you look at this for me?"

Hermione moved around the table and peered at the heart.

"That looks like Enochian." She murmured.

Dean pulled out his phone to call Castiel.

"How did it get there?" Sam asked her, as Dean read out directions.

Castiel appeared uncomfortably close to Dean and Hermione waved him over. Eschewing the gloves, the angel picked up the heart with his bare hands and peered at the symbol.

"These are angelic markings." He frowned and set it back in its box. "I expect you'll find them on the other couples as well."

"What do they mean?" Hermione asked as Sam stacked the boxes.

"It's a mark of Union. It means these humans were intended to mate."

They stared at him.

"What?" Dean managed eventually.

"Cherub's use them to mark that their assignment has been finished."

"Cherubs?" Hermione repeated. "As in small, winged babies from Renaissance's paintings?"

"Your people would call them Cupid's but yes. This one is a third class Cherub, concerned mostly with the mixing of certain blood lines. The higher ranks intercede for soul mates and the like."

Dean groaned.

"So, we have...what exactly?"

"A rogue Cupid who is killing his victims and must be stopped before he kills again." Castiel told him, completely straight faced.

"I hate this job." Hermione mumbled.

* * *

Hermione and Castiel had stopped to look in the window of one of the shops and Sam had gone on ahead, leaving Dean to walk back to the motel alone. Several meters ahead of him, a pair of robed figures stopped passers by and showed them a picture. Most shook their heads, but a few people pointed back along the street and past Dean. Curious, he approached the men slowly, pretending to check his phone. The robes they wore were a deep shade of purple and they glanced at Dean as he drew near.

"Have you seen this woman?" One of the men barked.

Dean stared at the mugshot of Hermione and frowned, trying to hide his surprise.

"No, can't say that I have. Why? Who is she?"

The taller man scowled.

"No one you need to care about." The accent was British, but not as refined as Hermione's.

"Dean, Cas has...Shit."

The two men stared over Dean's shoulders.

"Hermione Jean Granger?"

Hermione winced.

"Yes?" She offered.

The tallest man nodded and reached into the pocket of his robe for a slip of parchment which he attempted to hand to Hermione.

"Miss Granger, I'm here to serve you with a summons." The man intoned.

Hermione shifted her weight onto the back of her heels.

"What about?"

"Miss, if you'll just come with us, everything will be explained back at the Ministry."

"DON'T!" She snapped. Dean, who'd been reaching out to take the parchment flinched.

"It's a portkey." She explained. "Oldest trick in the book, especially for Law Enforcement. Why are you here?" She demanded.

"Will you come with us?" The shorted wizard, balding and middle aged, asked.

Brown eyes flickered between the wizards before she shook her head slowly and drew her wand.

The wizards sighed and raised their own wands.

"Then, by order of the Minister of Magic, you are hereby accused of breaking the Statute of Secrecy, Muggle Baiting, Illegal Use of a Portkey and seventeen other miscellaneous charges. We are placing you under arrest."

Hermione's wand raised and she glared at them.

"No." She told them calmly. Dean shifted so he was slightly in front of her and pulled out his gun.

They exchanged nervous glances before the bigger of the two pointed his wand at Dean.

"We have authorisation to use any means necessary."

Hermione gave a cold laugh.

"You'd hurt a muggle?" She tested. "This is a muggle area. Now whose breaking the law?"

"Miss Granger, no matter how famous you are, you're still a lone witch."

Hermione flinched.

"You wouldn't..."

"_Petrificus Totallus_."

Dean's legs snapped together and he toppled to the floor unable to move.

"Dean!" Hermione glanced from him to the wizards. "I'll come."

Dean groaned something through his clenched teeth and she gave him a weak smile.

"Just...let Dean go, okay?"

The wand was lowered and Hermione raised her hands.

"Drop your wand."

Scowling she did so, the vine wood clattering on the tarmac. Several pedestrians across the street paused to look.

"Kneel."

Hermione's head hung as she knelt down, hands clasped behind her head. Dean watched in horror as a set of manacles were clamped around her wrists.

"You have the right to remain silent, although anything you say can and will be held against you and your memories may be examined before a court of your peers. Do you have anything else to say at this point?"

"Dean," She met his eyes, smiling grimly. "Finish the case. I'll be back."

"I really doubt it." One of the wizards goaded. "The list they've got against you isn't going anywhere, Brightest Witch or not."

Dean felt the magic holding him down lift as one of the wizards flicked his wand.

"Hermione.."

"Shut up, Dean."

A pendant was dropped around her neck and the wizards and Hermione vanished right before his eyes.

* * *

Kingsley stood behind his desk, looking through his window to the Atrium. Hermione was led in, shackles digging uncomfortably into her wrists. She'd been lucky they hadn't paraded her through the entire Ministry, although the goading from the wizards escorting her had been more than enough. A shocked gasp jerked her head to the left and she caught Harry leaping towards her.

"Let her go!" he roared, wand raised.

"Stand down, Auror Potter." Kingsley turned and dismissed the Hit Wizards. "Thank you for joining us, Miss Granger."

"Thank you for dragging me half-way across the Atlantic." Hermione snipped, grumpily. "And threatening my friends."

"They weren't supposed to hurt her!" Harry snapped.

"They didn't." Kingsley assured him. "But she is a criminal and..."

"Does it matter?" She interrupted. "Are you going to charge me with something or can I leave? I was in the middle of something."

"Several days ago Auror Potter came to me expressing his concerns about your welfare. Together we agreed to have you followed, until a clear picture of the situation could be made...What we found was disturbing."

"I haven't done anything wrong!" She cried. "I'm just trying to help people."

"Nothing wrong? You've broken multiple laws, Hermione. You've broken the Statute of Secrecy!" Kingsley intoned. "There has to be consequences. Are you willing to offer an explanation for your actions?"

Hermione sighed.

"I'm trying to stop the end of the world with two brothers and an angel. So far we've failed at every turn, but no one's willing to surrender the world to Lucifer without a fight."

Kingsley rolled his eyes..

"You always were stubborn." He murmured. "Very well. Auror Potter will escort you to the cells until such a time as you can be processed properly.

* * *

It was very cold in the holding cells and very dark. The wandless magic she usually had available to her was held in check by the manacles and she'd been stripped of her wand and weapons. Harry had given her an incredibly disappointed look before he'd shut the door and Hermione shuddered. She'd known this would happen at some point. It was probably inevitable.

There was a flutter of wings and Castiel appeared in the corner of the cell. Hermione stared at him for a full minute before she remembered that Castiel didn't do greetings.

"Hey," She murmured.

"Hello?"

"I'm not hallucinating again?" She asked suddenly.

Castiel frowned at her, cocking his head to one side.

"I believe we have already addressed your confusion towards my existence."

"It was just a...how can I help you?"

"I'm here to break you out." He stepped forward to touch her and she cringed back.

"Cas, I need to be here." he frowned and she hurried to continue. "I'm serious. I'll be in more trouble if I just vanish from my cell and I need to deal with this. The boys can cope without me."

The angel sighed.

"We are heading to find a Cupid." He grumbled. "I am not looking forward to the experience. Dean insisted I check on you first."

She smiled.

"Tell him I'm fine." She assured him. "If a bit cold and hungry."

Castiel vanished without a word and, rolling her eyes, Hermione settled back against the wall of her cell. Thirty seconds later the angel reappeared, a coat slung over his arm.

"Dean insisted." He explained as he settled the material over her shoulders. "There was a lot of swearing and some blasphemy."

"Is this _his_ coat?" Hermione asked, sniffing the collar. The jacket held the slight tang of gunpowder and leather, but it was warm.

Castiel looked sheepish and shuffled his feet.

"He said for you to "Keep it"."

"Tell him he's amazing." Hermione smiled and clasped the angel's hand between her own. "And thank you for coming to check on me. Fetch me if you need to. Okay. Don't hesitate."

Castiel nodded and vanished.

* * *

A careful rummage in the coat pockets produced Dean's second best lock picks (which he'd taught her to use several months ago, despite her insistence that magic was faster), a lighter and several chocolate bars and a handful of Skittles. Hermione grinned and leaned against the cell wall, significantly happier than before.

* * *

Sometime later, Hermione was led from her cell to an interrogation room several doors down and forced into a chair, facing away from the door. She resisted the urge to turn around when the door open and settled for tightening her grip on Dean's coat. Harry, looking irritated, sat in the other chair.

"Hermione Jean Granger, my name is Auror Potter and I am here to ask you a few questions."

Hermione rolled her eyes, bemused that Harry had chosen _now _to remember protocol.

"Would you like to explain what you were doing in America?"

She chuckled.

"I was killing demons and attempting to prevent the Apocalypse."

Harry sighed.

"Miss Granger, if you cannot take this interrogation seriously, we will be forced to administer Veritaserum."

"I was telling the truth." Hermione mumbled, suddenly extremely annoyed with her childhood friend.

"Would you please explain the purpose of these items?" Harry asked suddenly and pulled out an evidence bag.

"My wand." she sighed when it was lain out on the table.

"Length and core?"

"Vine wood, dragon heartstring, ten and three quarter inches."

Harry nodded and reached into the bag again. This item thumped down on the table and Hermione flinched.

"A sawed-off shotgun, loaded with salt rounds. Luckily, the safety is _on_!" She chastised and Harry winced.

The next item landed with a clang and Hermione made a wordless protest at the rough treatment.

"The blade of the angel Simiel," She sighed. "Killed in battle."

Simiel's blade was followed by a bottle of Holy Water, several fake ID's, an anti-possession charm and a large kilo bag of salt. Hermione began to suspect the evidence bag had an undetectable extension charm on it when Harry pulled out her own beaded handbag.

"Would you care to explain the uses of these items?"

"Would you care to believe me?" Hermione returned and it occurred to her that she'd spent entirely too much time with Dean recently.

"Do you know a man by the name of Castiel Winchester?"

Hermione smiled.

"No." She confirmed and it wasn't, technically, a lie.

Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"Hermione...What's going on? Why were you in America and why are you carrying guns? You hate fighting!"

"Can't you just trust me?" She asked quietly.

"Hermione..."

"We're friends!" She snapped. "You know me. You know that I wouldn't do anything like this unless it was for a good reason!"

"The Hermione I know doesn't believe in demons!" Harry said angrily. "She doesn't carry knives and she doesn't have weird scars."

Hermione's chained hands went reflexively to the bite mark on her neck and she winced.

"Harry..."

Hermione stopped mid-sentence as a figure in a tan trench coat stepped out of thin air.

"It's not a Cupid!" Castiel told her, eyes wide. His face was stained and his coat had bits of lettuce and crumbs sticking to it. "It's Famine, the Horsemen! We've been infected."

Hermione nodded, not at all surprised the Harry hadn't noticed the angel.

"Can you get these off me?" She asked quietly.

The manacles fell from her hands and she grabbed her bag, sweeping her weapons into it and summoning her wand. Harry looked up in time to see her smile at him nervously.

"I'm really sorry about this." She said honestly, and held out a hand to Castiel.

* * *

Harry swore as his best friend disappeared into thin air. After using his wand to check she hadn't simply become invisible (and that was a genuine problem for the Auror Corps) he threw the door of the Interrogation Room open and bellowed for his second in command. Dennis Creevey, doing a remarkable impersonation of a Jack-in-the-box, appeared at his elbow.

"Yes, Auror Potter?"

"We've got Granger's wand registration on file, yes?"

Creevey nodded.

"I need you to perform a tracking charm."

"Sir, you need a warrant and..."

"Dennis..." Harry snarled.

"Miss Granger will know how to block the trace and..."

"Then you'd better do it _quickly _before she gets around to it. GO!"

Dennis sped off and by the time Harry had tied his cloak around his neck, the slight wizard had returned with a portkey.

"5,4,3,2..."

Harry didn't hear the end of Dennis' countdown as the familiar hook clipped on somewhere behind his naval and he went flying through the air. He drops into existence somewhere behind Hermione and he followed her silently, through the door of what looked like a restaurant. He paused outside the door, content to watch for now.

The room beyond is full of men and women in suits, apart from two, one of whom is an elderly man with an oxygen tube attached to his nose and the other is a man, hanging limply from the hold of two others. He stiffens when Hermione enters and strains against the hold of his captors. Hermione shot him a glance but turned her attention to the elderly man. Harry noticed that she'd drawn that strange silvery blade he'd seen before and she held it loosely in her left hand with as much confidence as she held her wand in the other.

"Famine?" She addressed.

The old man smirked.

"Miss Granger I presume. Yes, someone told me you'd be coming. Take her!"

The men and women in suits converge on Hermione who begins to back into a corner, shouting as she went. Harry couldn't make out the words that she spits out incredibly fast, but he could recognise the language. It's Latin and whatever she's saying has a horrific effect on the suited men and women. Black smoke poured from their mouths and noses and to Harry's disgust, is drawn into the mouth of the old man.

"You're just making me stronger." He taunted.

The man who'd been fighting to get free, pushed away from the limp bodies and launched himself across the room towards Hermione. She saw him coming just in time and twisted away, causing him to crash into the wall.

"Dean!" She yelled, before turning to Famine. "What did you do to him?"

Famine laughed and watched as Dean, bleeding from the nose got to his feet and paced towards Hermione.

"Dean." She begged. "Don't make me do this!"

"Hermione," He reached out to touch her and Hermione's wand hand, hair trigger at the best of times, twitched. A familiar jet of red light shot from her wand and Dean slumped to the floor. A man with long hair and a blood stained mouth pushed past Harry, seeming not to notice him, and into the restaurant.

"Sam!" Famine greeted as Hermione paled. "I see you got the snack I sent you?"

Sam ignored the words as Hermione raised her wand.

"He's been eating the demon souls." She told Sam calmly.

To Harry's confusion, Sam raised one hand and clenched his fist. Black smoke exploded out from Famine's mouth and Hermione crossed the room in two quick strides and brought her blade down on Famine's hand.

The smoke burned into a hole in the ground as it vanished, Famine's seat empty and a set of bloody fingers by Hermione's feet. Grimacing, she shook a ring off one of the fingers and slipped it into her pocket before she turned to Sam. Harry stepped into the room, watching them all cautiously.

"Sam," She whispered, slowly, as though she was trying not to spook him. "We need to go to Bobby's and..."

"NO!" Sam bellowed.

Hermione revived the other man and he stirred slowly, eyes darkening when they took in the room.

"Sam, please..." She begged.

"No! I'm fine like this." Sam spat and started for the door.

"_Immobulus._"

Thick chains sprang around Sam and he toppled to the ground, Dean and Hermione springing forward.

"It's okay, Sammy." Hermione whispered. "It's okay. We'll fix this."

"Hermione...?" Harry started but she barely looked at him.

"Not _now_, Harry." She glanced up at Dean, one hand resting on the struggling hunter. "I'm going to take him to the Panic Room. Do you want to find Cas and follow me?"

Dean nodded and Hermione disapparated, taking Sam with her.

Harry eyed Dean cautiously, watching as he got to his feet.

"Who the fuck are you?" Dean demanded.

"Auror Potter..."

"You're one of those assholes who arrested 'Mione?"

Harry started at the nickname, mostly because Hermione hated having her name shortened.

"It's for her own good..."

The man headed for the doorway.

"Dude, can't you see she's a bit busy?"

"BUSY?" Harry yelled. "What the hell is going on here?"

Dean glared at him with thinly veiled annoyance.

"Harry, right? You're the guy who said some name and got her caught?"

Harry, froze, guilt filling him. Dean took his silence as his answer.

"Great. Cas?"

The man in the trench coat appeared at Dean's shoulder.

"Go to Bobby's house. Sam's in the safe room. Keep him there and send 'Mione back. She's got something to do."

Harry waited in the bloody restaurant, filled with bodies until Hermione returned. She grimaced at Harry and strode past him, out onto the street.

"Hermione, wait!"

She paused and he caught up with her.

"What's going on here?" He demanded.

Hermione pulled her phone from her pocket and dialled.

"Dean? I'll come and find you soon. I have something to explain." She sighed. "Of course. I'll have them brewed by the time we get back."

* * *

The two friends sat in the local diner and talked. Hermione did her best to ignore the strange looks they were getting, but Harry was too busy absorbing new information to notice.

"So, some prophecy said you had to save that bloke called Dean?"

Hermione nodded and Harry added sugar to his coffee.

"And those were..."

"Demons."

"Right." Harry's coffee was quickly resembling syrup. "And the man in the trench coat is..."

"An angel. Yes."

Harry stared and her and Hermione reached across and rescued the sugar shaker from him.

"This is mad, Hermione."

"I know."

"Do you?" He mumbled, green eyes wide behind his glasses. "Does Ron know anything about this?"

"What? No! Are you insane?"

Harry gave her a look that said he was seriously considering it and shrugged.

"I need...I need to give my report to Kingsley. He'll decide if the charges still stand."

She smiled gratefully and Harry got to his feet.

"Harry..." she called as he made to leave. "I'm sorry about this." She told him regretfully.

Harry huffed out a breath and nodded.

"Yeah, I know."

* * *

Hermione replaced Castiel at the house, allowing him to go back to his search. She sat, cauldron balanced precariously on the floor, in front of the Panic Room and stocked up on healing potions. Judging by the screaming, Sam was going to need them. Dean arrived late that night and he came straight downstairs after greeting Bobby and slouched next to her on the floor.

"Hello." She greeted and he grunted in return. She gave the cauldron one last stir and tapped it twice with her wand, lowering the portable flame. She shuffled over so she was leaning against Dean's side and waited.

"I can't do this." He muttered at last.

"I know." she whispered and Dean pretended that she did.

"Has he..."

"Stopped screaming?" she laughed softly. "No. It wasn't his fault though if what Castiel told me was true."

Sam began to talk to someone, sounding incredibly lucid for a man who was hallucinating and Hermione sighed, tugging her jacket closer to ward off the chill of the basement.

"That my coat?" Dean asked suddenly.

She blushed.

"Cas said you sent it..."

"I did." He assured her. "It's just..."

"I can give it back." She started to remove it but he chuckled and shook his head.

"Nah. Kinda suits you. Might have to shrink it a bit though."

Hermione held up one sleeve, which dragged over her hand and raised an eyebrow.

"You think?"

A soft hoot came from their left and they turned in time to see a barn owl fly down the stairs and land on Hermione's knee. Upstairs, Bobby complained loudly about animals and rabies.

She took the letter, unrolling it and reading it carefully. Dean watched as her brow furrowed the more she read.

"They're dropping the charges." she murmured.

"That's good, right?"

"Well, yes..." She trailed off and he scowled.

"What else?" He demanded.

Hermione stared at him, brown eyes wide with disbelief.

"They've offered me a job."

* * *

**_Question-If Sam was hungry for blood and Cas for meat, what was Dean after?_**

**_I've been up North which is why this is late. _**

**_Special thanks to-_**

**_BlueFrost(bear with me. She'll come), Selma in the TARDIS (thank you), Terrance Rogue, gypsygal, mariteri, Jess Marylin, ChelsMels, Krazyfanfiction1_****_._**

**_Thank you all for your continued support._**

**_Hood._**

**_P.S If you liked my Sherlock/Hermione stuff, go have a look at mariteri's Hermione Rent's a Flat. It's awesome!_**


	17. Orders and Lies

"You want me to be a _hunter_?" Hermione stared at them in confusion. "Why?"

Kingsley shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Harry.

"It has recently been brought to my attention that there are creatures out there our people are not prepared, mentally or physically to face. If such an instance were to come on to our...radar, so to speak, it would be in the Ministry's best interests to have a person we could call."

Hermione frowned at him.

"You've become a politician," She accused, "But I see your point, yes."

"We would, of course, reimburse you for your efforts." Kingsley added. "We would work out a per case salary."

Hermione nodded slowly.

"So I would be on call?" She asked, curious. "A consultant?"

Harry nodded.

"You wouldn't even have to live here." He promised eagerly. "We'll give you unlimited portkey transportation and..."

"Why are you so keen for me to take this job?" Hermione demanded. "You were planning to arrest me two days ago!"

Kingsley winced.

"It is the concern of Auror Potter and myself, that were you to continue unchecked, there would be a high risk of you not returning."

Hermione frowned at them.

"You're worried I wouldn't come back to England?" She asked now slightly confused.

Harry sighed.

"Hermione, we're worried you're going to get yourself killed. Kingsley looked at my memories and, as your friends, we're concerned for your welfare. We've seen the bruises and muggle treatments are rubb..."

"Not equipped for that sort of injury." Kingsley cut in, glaring at Harry. "At least this way you'd have the full force of the Ministry behind you and by extension, St Mungo's."

She folded her arms and regarded the two wizards through slitted eyes.

"May I have some time to think about this?"

They nodded eagerly and she made her way out, waiting until she reached the muggle world outside before she called for Castiel.

* * *

"So what do you think?"

Dean stared at her.

"Why are you asking me?"

"It does rather effect you." She murmured, drawing her knees up to her chest. "Considering we virtually live together."

"Would you be on your own?" Sam gave a rather loud shout from downstairs and they both flinched. "I mean, hunting on your own?"

"Yes. It shouldn't be anything more than I can handle and..."

"I think it's a great idea."

Dean scowled.

"Nobody asked you, Bobby." He called.

"You're in my house, ain't cha?" Bobby yelled back. Hermione laughed. "Besides, it's about time one of you started earnin' an honest living. Speakin' of which would one of you go to the grocery store? You're eatin' me outta house an home!"

Dean shrugged and got to his feet.

"You wanna go shopping or help Sam?"

She summoned the potions and sighed.

"I'll help Sam.." She headed for the stairs and then paused. "Is that a yes?" She asked as he was about to leave. Dean stared at her in confusion. "Should I go for it?"

Dean coughed slightly.

"Hell, if it keeps you safer, go for it."

* * *

"Sam, she's going to get herself killed."

Sam watched his brother pace the Panic Room, with something akin to amusement. He himself was chained to the bed, the demon blood still not completely banished from his system. Hermione's potions and cheering charms kept the worst of the problems away but the risk of him hurting himself was too great.

"She's a good hunter, isn't she?"

Dean grunted which he took as an affirmative.

"She's almost as good as us. She's cautious, doesn't rush in blindly..._brilliant_ at research."

His brother glared at him.

"She'll be hunting on her own." He snarled. "She won't have us..."

"You mean you." Sam smirked. "That's what the problem is, right? You can't keep an eye on her. You think she'll get killed and then you'll have to do something drastic and dumb to save her and it'll be incredibly tragic and blah, blah, blah. She can do this. You know she can."

Dean grumbled under his breath.

"Besides, it's good for her to have a life outside of us. People say we're co-dependant." He made an expansive gesture that was cut short by the chains around his wrists. "It's true, I mean...We see each other _all_ the time and..."

"'Mione give you something?" Dean asked, now slightly annoyed.

Sam shrugged.

"You're a hallucination. Doesn't matter. Anyway, she'll be fine..."

Dean sighed.

"You know you've not got much longer to use that excuse. Hermione says you're gonna be fine soon."

Sam fixed him with a surprisingly sober glare.

"Dean, of course you're a hallucination. You're talking about your _feelings_!"

"You're nuts." Dean decided and left.

* * *

"So I got a new job..."

Hermione glanced up nervously at her dinner companion. Looking tanned and freckled, Ron grinned back at her.

"That's great, 'Mimi."

"Don't call me that." She mumbled crossly. "It's going to involve a lot a travelling and..."

"We'll work it out." He smiled at her and held out his hand. "Pass the salt would you?"

Hermione handed over the salt cellar and decided she simply didn't even care any more.

* * *

"What the hell?"

Dean stared at the coffee table.

"Why is there a turtle in my room?" He demanded. "Eating lettuce?"

Hermione frowned at him over the top of her book.

"Firstly, that's a tortoise, not a turtle. And secondly, those are beetroot leaves. Sam doesn't like lettuce."

Dean sat in the nearest chair and sighed.

"Please tell me that isn't my brother."

"That isn't your brother."

"Then where is Sam?" He pleaded.

"You told me not to tell you."

Dean gaped at her.

"Did you turn my brother into a turtle?"

Hermione's lips pursed in irritation.

"_Tortoise_ and yes. He was annoying me. If I have to listen to one more round of "_I'm Sam Winchester and I am literally the devil incarnate for drinking demon blood_" I will curse him."

Dean nodded in understanding and they watched Sam eat in silence for a while.

"You can change him back, right?"

Hermione glared at him.

"Of course I can."

Dean appeared to be having a moral dilemma and he glanced up at her, frowning.

"It's not hurting him or anything, is it?"

"No." She smiled at him. "Why?"

Dean scratched his chin.

"It's just...I felt like tacos for dinner and Sam hates them. This way I don't have to listen to him bitch."

* * *

"How'd it go? First hunt alone."

Hermione collapsed onto the couch and glared at Dean.

"I'm in one piece, aren't I?"

Sam snorted and tossed her a wrapped sandwich.

"Tuna and sweetcorn." She grinned. "You're a sweetheart. How have things been here?"

Dean sighed, glaring at the piles of books surrounding them.

"As far as killing Lucifer goes...we got nothing. I mean, Cas said it himself, you can't kill him. Can you?"

Hermione sat bolt upright and stared at Dean, open mouth full of unchewed food.

"Hermione..." Sam prompted, looking away. "Mouth closed. Please."

She flushed and swallowed hurriedly before she turned back to them.

"What if it's that simple?" She murmured.

"What?" Dean demanded.

"What if we can't kill him?" she beamed at them. "That's the whole point after all! Michael couldn't kill Lucifer so they locked him up..."

"And...?"

"The cage is still there." She told them excitedly. "In hell, it's still there, isn't it?"

"So, what?" Sam stared at her. "We just throw him back in there?"

"Yes!"

Dean sighed, rubbing at him temples.

"Even if we could get the damn thing open, or even find it, how the hell do you suggest we get him to go anywhere near it?"

Hermione pulled at her hair, frustrated.

"I don't know but..."

"Me."

Hermione and Dean were facing each other, so they both saw the expressions of resignation cross each others faces.

"NO WAY!" Dean exploded.

"Absolutely not!" Hermione added.

Sam rolled his eyes.

"C'mon guys..."

"You're gonna hand yourself over to Lucifer?" Dean demanded. "Say yes in the hope that you can _somehow_ get enough control to throw yourself in the cage."

"Well, yeah."

"Sam, you'd be trapped." Hermione shook her head. "No, we'll think of something else. You're not saying yes to him."

"This is the best plan we've got!" Sam protested.

"And it ends up with you in Hell!" Dean snapped. "No way, Sammy. Not happening!"

"Dean, why won't you two just listen?"

Hermione glared at him.

"Because we're not okay with a plan that lands you in the Cage with Lucifer."

"This is my chance to set everything right!" Sam snapped, getting to his feet. "If I can do this, I can..."

"Sam, this isn't some kind of...martyrdom!" Hermione yelled.

"You're not listening to me. This is the best shot we've got. If it'll work _I'm_ doing it!" He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Dean and Hermione stared after him in silence, before he turned to her.

"This was your dumb idea. You fix this!"

"Dean..." She begged, but he headed into the bathroom, leaving her alone with a pile of ancient manuscripts and a half eaten sandwich. Hermione glanced around her and sighed, kicking out at the table.

"Dammit." She whispered.

* * *

Dean wasn't an idiot. He'd never be as good at books and stuff like Sam and 'Mione, but he was _smart_. Just...not in a way you could test.

He knew she was up to something. Whenever they had a free moment, Hermione dug out a spare piece of paper and a pen, and began scrawling equations. Eventually they started piling up and he realised she'd filled a notebook and then two. The back of the Impala was covered in pieces of parchment, but Hermione refused to throw any of them out.

"Sam?"

His brother glanced up and Dean shoved the nearest sheet of paper at her. Sam scanned her spikey scrawl frowning.

"It's Arithmancy."

Dean sighed.

"Which means...?"

"She's trying to work out something but..." He grabbed the nearest sheet of paper and then the next, and the next. "The variables she's working with are incredible. But..." He frowned. "19%, 15% _5_%...none of them are working."

"Yeah, but what she's trying to do?" Dean asked, as Sam gathered up papers, shifting through them.

"I don't know." Sam frowned at him. "It could be anything. I'm not good enough at this to work it out."

"Great." Dean muttered and set about putting the papers back down before Hermione noticed that they'd been moved.

* * *

"I'm not staying here." She announced, nose wrinkling.

Sam grimaced, looking around the filthy motel room.

"Can't you...I dunno, magic it cleaner?"

"I'm sorry." Hermione rolled her eyes. "I think you have me confused with Cas. You know, the angel who can work miracles?"

"Well, there isn't another motel for miles so you two can just suck it up." Even Dean looked mildly disgusted as he carried his bag in. "Unless you've got a better idea?"

"Actually..." Hermione pulled her pendant from beneath her shirt and held it out. "Have you two got everything?"

Confused, Dean nodded, whilst Sam, who'd traveled this way before, just looked resigned.

"Very well. Touch it, please?" Looking curious, Dean rested his fingertips on the pendant as Sam curled two fingers around the chain. Hermione locked the motel room with a wave of her wand and then settled the tip on top of the pendant. "_Portus_." She whispered.

They landed in the center of her sitting room and Hermione stepped primly over their prone bodies to put the kettle on.

"What the hell?" Dean gasped.

"Portkey." Sam answered, struggling to his feet. "I hate doing that." He collapsed onto the sofa with a groan, burrowing into it and tucking his head under his arm.

"Where are we?" Dean demanded, taking in the unfamiliar room. He was still somewhat in shock, especially when he saw the dull grey sky out the window instead of the bright blue he'd left in Idaho.

"'Mione's flat." Sam mumbled. "I forgot how comfortable these things were."

Guessing that his brother wasn't going to provide any more sense, Dean followed into the kitchen, where Hermione was making coffee.

"Why are we here?"

"It's clean?" She offered. "I don't know. I wanted to sleep in a bed I didn't have to _scurgify_ six times before deeming it clean enough for human habitation." She handed him a mug and paused. "Has Sam already gone to sleep?"

Dean stuck his head back into the living room and, sure enough, Sam was sleeping peacefully on the sofa cushions.

"How did you even find a couch big enough for him?" Dean asked, curious.

Hermione sighed.

"I didn't. I used to have two sofas and an armchair. But Sam needed somewhere to sleep and..." She waved her fingers through the air, leaving behind sparks, which Dean took to mean that magic had been involved. He wandered around the room, taking in the cramped shelves and picture laden mantelpiece. "It's...uh...nice here. Is that _you_?" He snatched up the picture of her from the Yule Ball and squinted at it, oblivious to her laughter. "You look hot!"

"I was fifteen."

Dean almost dropped the photograph and she snickered into her mug.

"I forget how younger than me you are." He muttered.

"Ten years isn't that much of an age gap." She told him. "Not to wizards anyway."

"How'd you mean?" Dean frowned.

She winced.

"We tend to live...somewhat longer than normal people. And there are so few of us so if you're trying to avoid marrying someone you're related to, you might look older or younger. Gaps of up to thirty or forty years aren't unusual. Less common now, but still..."

That caught his attention.

"What do you mean "_so few_". I thought you guys had a government and stuff..."

"We do." She smiled. "But it probably employs half the population. A lot of people died in the wars and most of them are related. Harry's grandmother was a Black and she was related to Sirius, Harry's godfather. Of course, the Blacks are related to the Weasleys, Ron's family, the Malfoys, the Bones, Abbots, Longbottoms, Prewitts...And Potter's have one of the oldest lines in the world so.."

"So they're all..."

"Distant cousins, yes." She gave a dry laugh. "All that inbreeding leads to weaker magic, until whole lines die out. And then you've got people like me...the newbloods as people are calling us."

"That's...gross."

She hummed.

"So if you're set on marrying a wizard, then your options are somewhat...limited."

"Are you?"

Hermione glanced up at him.

"What?"

He winced.

"Set on...you know?"

"Wouldn't that be hypocritical of me?" She teased settling herself on the free sofa. He settled beside her and noted that Sam was actually right. This sofa had to be illegal somewhere.

"I guess. Aren't you a little young to be thinking about this?"

She sighed heavily.

"I wish. Wizards marry and...procreate, early. I don't know why. I mean Harry's planning to propose to Ginny and he's younger than me." There was a sharp rap at the window and Hermione handed him her mug and got up to open it. A small owl, no bigger than Dean's fist, shot in the open window, circled the lampshade twice and then perched on Dean's head.

Dean glared at her as she did her best to contain her giggles. She knelt on the sofa next to him and lifted the owl gently out of his hair.

"Hello Pig." She murmured affectionately. Carefully, she removed the letter from his leg. "There are treats in the kitchen." she told him and the tiny owl sped off. Her lips thinned as she read the letter, brown eyes darkening.

"What is it?"

"Molly." She muttered.

"Who is...?"

"Ron's mother." She folded the letter in half and stuffed it down the side of the sofa. "The Weasleys have done a lot for me and I love them, I do. But Molly Weasley is _not_ my mother. Her comments about my working life are certainly not appreciated, nor are they welcome. She is a wonderful person, but I do not need her haranguing me about attending family functions. I've got better things to be doing than playing daughter." She bit her lip, dark eyes focused on the floor. Dean resisted the urge to point out she'd been visiting Ellen twice a week since her parents deaths.

"Okaaay..."

"She's invited me to dinner." Hermione explained, picking at a hole in her jeans. "And whilst I'd love to go, I don't want to listen to subtle digs about my career choices."

Dean frowned.

"But..."

"Don't." She warned. "Look, lets just spend the night here, pop back over in the morning and catch that demon. All right?"

* * *

Dean didn't get much sleep that night. It wasn't that Hermione's sofa wasn't comfortable, because it was, and it wasn't because London was full of sounds he wasn't used to hearing. Winchesters are good at bottling up their feelings, but Dean couldn't ignore the notion that he broke everything he touched. Everywhere he looked he could see the remnants of the life she should have had, the life he and Sam had taken from her. Her parents were dead because of him, she'd left her job because of him and she was avoiding family and friends to go demon hunting with him.

"You still up?"

He turned and stared at Hermione who was standing in the doorway, rubbing at her eyes. She was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt that had once been his, long hair loose around her shoulders.

"Couldn't sleep." He admitted quietly, conscious of his brother sleeping peacefully several feet away. But then, when _wasn't_ Sam sleeping a few feet away. "You know," He whispered. "When Sam left for Stanford, I couldn't get to sleep at night. Too used to him being nearby, I guess."

She took a seat next to him, drawing the blanket over her lap. He shifted and she leaned against his side.

"I can understand that." She murmured. "When I moved in here, I used to listen out at night for Parvati or Lavender or Harry or Ron. It was the first time I'd slept on my own." Hermione shrugged slightly. "But then of course, I went to America and..."

Dean winced.

"You had dormitories?" He asked suddenly.

Hermione glared at him from the corner of her eye.

"Whatever disgusting thought you're having, stop it now."

"Don't know what you're thinking about." He smirked.

"Yeah, right." She got up to leave and he grabbed her arm.

"Stay?" He asked, uncomfortable with the question that was far to close to a plea for his liking.

"I should feel guilty about this." Hermione murmured, curling into his side as he drew the blanket over them.

"Should you?" He resisted the urge to draw her closer and wrap his arms around her.

She scoffed.

"I've got a boyfriend." She reminded him and he scowled at the back of her head. "And I'm sure this crosses the line of propitiatory."

"Nah. Just two soldiers..."

"Cuddling?" She supplied dryly.

"Sheltering." He grumbled. "Hey, you ever gonna tell me what that prophecy of yours is about?"

She tensed and shook her head slightly.

"I'm taking care of it." She promised. "Don't worry about it."

"It's not _it_ I'm worried about." He muttered when he was sure she'd fallen asleep.

* * *

"That's not a demon." Hermione said slowly, examining the security footage with a frown. They watched the blond with the black eyes slaughter the cashier, the crackling CCTV footage not doing her features justice. "Come on. We need to find her before she hurts anyone else. Poor thing." She added.

"Poor thing!" Dean spluttered as they headed outside. "She's just killed a guy in cold blood."

Hermione glared at him, striding on ahead.

"She's not thinking straight. Trust me on this, Dean."

* * *

It didn't take long to find her. She'd taken up residence in the nearby woods and was perched in a tree, letting out howling shrieks of rage.

"What the hell is that!" Sam demanded, covering his ears and almost dropping his gun in the process. Dean grimaced, but resisted the urge to cover his own ears.

"A Veela. I need you two to sit this one out." Hermione had already drawn her wand and was moving towards the large oak.

"What?"

"Are you insane?"

Both hunters spoke instantaneously and Hermione paused to glare at them.

"No, but..."

There was a soft thud as the Veela dropped from the tree to land in a crouch between the roots. She glanced up, bottomless black eyes staring them down. Sam and Dean froze mid step and Hermione gave a long sigh.

"_Leave_." The Veela hissed, fangs full extended. The men pivoted on their heels, demented grins sending them stumbling away. Hermione ignored them and stepped towards the woman. She was, as all Veela's were, beautiful. But it was a cold, empty sort of beauty, which lacked the warmth of a smile or a twinkle in her eyes. She looked dead.

"I am so sorry." Hermione whispered.

The Veela jerked.

"Eet iz done now." She said, in heavily accented English. "What's your name?" She demanded.

"Hermione Granger." And then because she knew it was necessary. "You have glamoured my males." She accused.

The Veela sniffed coldly.

"Zey intruded." The blonde shuddered and Hermione saw the beginning of claws stretching at her fingertips. "Much like you."

"What was his name?" Hermione asked quickly. She watched the other woman consider her carefully before answering.

"Damien. 'e was 'merican. We met in ze Ministry and ze muggles _killed 'im_!" The last words were a screech of pain and fury.

"I'm sorry." Hermione said again, well aware that her platitudes meant nothing to this woman. "But they will be brought to justice."

A grim smile crossed the Veela's face and Hermione tried not to shudder. The blonde reached up into the tree and pulled hard on something. A bloody and unrecognisably corpse fell to the her feet, it's head lolling gruesomely to one side.

"You are too late, sorceress. I killed 'im!" She shouted proudly. "I got my revenge." Those black eyes focused on Hermione. "And _you_, you vill tell, zem. Oui? You vill give me 'onour?"

Hermione felt her heart break.

"What's your name?" She asked at last. "And who is your matriarch?"

The Veela drew herself up to her full height, easily six feet of willowy figure.

"Avril Dubois." She murmured, tossing her wand at Hermione's feet. "Ma mere eez Josephine Dubois." A silver bracelet joined the wand. "You give zat to my sister. Tell 'er I am proud of 'er."

"Please..." Hermione begged.

"Non!" Avril's eyes flashed dangerously. "You shall do zees for me."

Unwilling, Hermione raised her wand.

"Avril Dubois," She murmured. "May you find the peace you have lost."

"Et vous, ma soure."

The Veela drew her self up, tossing her hair proudly behind her shoulders.

"_Avada Kadarva._" Hermione whispered and the jolt of green light hit the other woman square in the chest, knocking her back into the tree.

* * *

Sam and Dean were half a mile away when they came to their senses and began to job back across the fields. They found Hermione crumpled in a heap at the base of the tree, between two bodies, one bloodied and the other unmarked.

"What happened?" Sam asked gently.

Hermione looked up at him with bloodshot eyes.

"I killed her." She whispered.

"Should we bury them?" Dean suggested, when no one seemed to say anything else. Sam gave him a sharp look for being insensitive, which he ignored.

"No." Hermione stood. "We wait for sunset and then we burn her. I don't care about him."

Sam and Dean collected some branches from the tree and made a pallet of sorts, which Hermione laid the woman on.

"Why are we doing this?" Dean asked.

"Because she was a witch." Hermione snapped. "And this is proper. This is _honourable_."

Dean had trouble arguing with the hard look in her eyes, so he and Sam stood a silent vigil as Hermione waited for sunset.

"_Avril Dubois_," Hermione intoned as the sun touched the horizon. "_blessed be your life, blessed be your death. You were mother to none and sister to many. Find your star in the heavens and may She guide you to the eternal skies._"

She raised her wand. "_Incendio_."

Long tongues of flames spun from Hermione's wand and covered the pyre in white heat. She continued until there was nothing left but ash and then the flames burned away to nothing, leaving cool embers. "_Ventus._" She added in a whisper and a strong wind caught up the ashes and sent the flying towards the horizon, the bright orange of the sunset long since replaced with dark skies and stars. Dean thought the whole thing was rather fitting.

At last Hermione stepped back and Sam caught her in a hug.

"What was that?" He asked in an awed whisper.

"Funeral rights." Hermione murmured. "Most of us are buried, our magic comes from the earth after all, but Veela's were meant to fly. And now she does."

"What happened here?"

Hermione glanced at him, surprised by the question.

"She was heart broken." She told them simply.

"She killed three men." he argued.

Hermione grimaced.

"Veela..." She sighed. "Finding a non-magical comparison is hard, It's like...It's like soulmates. Imagine finding the one person who takes the whole mess of your life and makes it better. The person who loves you for who you are not _what_ you are. The person who is your best friend, who completes you. Your alpha and omega..." Dean frowned, but Sam look heartrendingly understanding. "Veela mates leave that in the dust. To be mated to a Veela is...is to know love for the rest of your life. It's something that fairy tales are made about, bedtime stories even. I met a mated pair once and..." Hermione smiled. "She was one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. Scandinavian, blonde hair...beautiful." Hermione twined her fingers together. "Her mate was probably the most ordinary man I'd ever met, but he was so very kind. And they were incredibly happy. Poor as church mice unfortunately. A wizard had resented her choice to choose another man and finding work had become impossible. I was in charge of relocating them. But they almost shone with happiness and love." She sighed wistfully, before her eyes because shadowed. "The Veela...Avril, she had found her happiness and someone took that away from her. They ripped out her heart and soul and the only thing left was instinct, pain and fury. Once she'd gotten her revenge, she would have just have withered away until she died. Veela's don't recover from losing a mate."

"Mercy." Sam breathed. "You didn't kill her..."

"I put her out of her misery. In a way. Veela believe in honorable deaths. She asked and..." She choked slightly. "I couldn't say no." Hermione hefted the wand and bracelet sadly. "I need to go to the Ministry and find her Matriarch."

"Matriarch?" Sam asked, confused.

Hermione gave a gentle smile.

"Veela's have a matriarchal society. They have to as many of their men become completely incapable of making decisions when any of them are around."

Sam disappeared into thought and Dean wrapped an arm around her.

"You gonna be okay?" He asked.

Hermione smiled sadly.

"Aren't I always?" She whispered.

* * *

"Eighty one." Hermione glanced up at them one evening with wild unfocused eyes. "Eighty one. Eighty one is worth it. I can do that."

"Do what?" Dean asked, looking over her shoulder.

Hermione ignored him and circled one long line of calculation in red ink.

From then on the nature of Hermione's study changed. The vast quantity of pages covered in numbers vanished and instead she buried herself behind dusty tombs of increasing age. She began drawing runes everywhere, large inky chains that Sam couldn't interpret.

"I don't know what she's doing." He confessed. "But...I dunno."

"You don't know?" Dean sighed. "Why won't she tell me...us?" He corrected.

Sam smirked.

"I can think of two reasons. Either it's none of our business _or_ she knows that if you knew you'd stop her."

Dean didn't like the sound of either of those and told him so.

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" Sam asked, wide eyed.

* * *

Hermione snagged the pieces of fruit that someone had carelessly added to Dean's breakfast platter and dropped them into the two bowls of porridge sitting in front of her and Sam.

"So we can rule demons out then?" Dean asked as he added milk to Hermione's tea and his coffee.

"Definitely." Sam passed a sugar packet to his left for Hermione to add to her breakfast and the ketchup bottle to his right for Dean. "You two got any ideas?"

There was silence and the three hunters glanced up to see Ellen and Bobby staring at them in what appeared to be shock. They'd insisted on meeting them for breakfast before they passed over the case, but now their food sat untouched and cooling in front of them as they stared across the booth at them.

"You three idgits are spendin' too much time together." Bobby announced.

Hermione laughed and shook her head.

"Don't know what you're talking about."

* * *

"Are we doing anything for Sam's birthday?" Hermione asked.

Dean glared at her.

"We didn't do anything for my birthday." He pointed out, somewhat petulantly.

"That's because I wasn't here." Hermione reminded him, smiling. "Answer the question."

"Why are these things so damn important to you?" He snapped.

The smile slid off her face and her eyes turned cold.

"Because you never know what day's going to be your last." She told him coolly. "And I would like to savour those I have left."

Dean frowned, something about her tone reminding him of the year he bargained his soul for.

"What are you planning?" He demanded, standing up. Hermione stood her ground and stared up at him. "What the hell are you up to?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Dean looked away first, scowling.

"You know, me and Sam taught you to lie." He murmured. "I know when you do it to my face."

She flinched and he nodded slowly.

"Dean..."

"Don't." He warned, stepping closer to her. "What are those damn orders Cas is always goin' on about? What's this damn prophecy of yours?"

This time she didn't bother trying to look him in the eyes, directing her words at his chest.

"It's not your concern." She whispered and he was startled to see her eyes filling with tears. "I'm handling it."

"Not my...It is if you're gonna get yourself killed for nothing."

Her eyes snapped up to meet his and he almost stepped back at the fire raging there.

"Nothing?" She hissed, clearly furious. "You are not _nothing_, Dean Winchester. Never. So you will let me do this and you will let me fix this and then you will enjoy your damn happy ever after!" She pushed away from him and stormed out, the slamming of the door behind her.

* * *

They did go out for Sam's birthday, much to his little brother's surprise. They spent the night drinking in a dingy bar and Dean wished he could remember something other than the sad look of resignation that cross Hermione's face when she thought no one was looking.

* * *

"What you're attempting in dangerous."

Hermione glared up at the angel.

"But not impossible." She stressed. "You said it yourself, I'm supposed to do something as a daughter of the earth, _this _is it. It's not something a muggle could attempt, let alone survive."

"That's not the point." Castiel stressed, looking frustrated. They'd been having this argument for days now and Hermione was finally wearing him down.

"Will this work?" She demanded.

He deflated slightly.

"Perhaps. But you are aware of the consequences? The price you will pay?"

Hermione swallowed nervously.

"I am." Her eyes narrowed. "Your orders still stand Castiel. You want Dean Winchester saved then do _not_ doubt my methods of doing so. He needs Sam. You know this." She offered him the hilt of Simiel's blade. "Help me." She begged.

Castiel sighed and took the blade, holding it poised over her right hand. Hermione showed him the first in a long string of runes.

"We can only do one string at a time." She explained, faltering slightly. "There is a limit to what my body can withstand."

Castiel eyed her sadly.

"If there was another way..."

"We would have found it by now." She wiped away the tear that had escaped. "So let's get it over with. Please."

Hermione cried out when the tip of the blade met her fingertips, the pain bright and raw. She looked away, grateful for angelic speed and accuracy as he continued to carve into her flesh.

* * *

Hermione's reaction times began to slow as the magic took it's toll. She hid the scars with glamour charms and ensured neither Sam nor Dean was aware of their presence. She slept more, needing the rest to recharge, unable to keep up the hours of research she had once accomplished. Dean began to look more and more suspicious as spent most journeys asleep in the back of the Impala, his old coat drawn over her like a blanket.

* * *

Dean woke up slowly, one hand sliding under his pillow for his gun. He tensed when he didn't find it.

"Looking for this?"

He heard the unmistakable sound of the magazine sliding out of it's chamber and sighed before he turned around. To his right, Sam was sitting on his bed, a gun at his temple. He winced at Dean in sympathy. On the floor, Hermione was kneeling with her hands behind her bed and the barrel of a shot gun resting behind her ear. She'd gone to sleep on the sofa that night, Dean remembered. He wondered why she hadn't woken before he remembered that she slept through most things these days.

"Morning." He murmured to Sam.

"Shut up!" One of the gunmen snapped. "Hands where I can see 'em."

Dean paused, before pulling himself up so he was sitting.

"Wait a minute," He scoffed. "That you Roy?" The masked man shifted uncomfortably. "It is, isn't it?" Dean nodded to himself. "Which makes you Walt. Heya, Walt."

"Don't matter." Roy pulled his mask up.

"Well, is it just me or do you two seem a tad upset?"

Dark brown eyes flashed at Dean in irritation, before returning to the spot of the floor that Hermione had been studying. He wondered, dimly, why she hadn't gone for her wand. He spotted the end of the handle sticking out from under a sofa cushion. With her hands behind her head, she'd be shot before she could summon anything. He sighed, watching as the rogue hunters turned to his brother.

"You think you can flip the switch of the Apocalypse, and walk away, Sam?"

"Who told you that?" Sam whispered in dread.

"We ain't the only hunters after you." Walt loaded his gun, causing everyone to jump. "Just the ones who got here first. See you in the next life..."

"Hear me out!" Sam begged. "I can explain, just...please..."

The gunshot was louder than Hermione had expected and she jerked as Sam fell backwards onto his bed, his chest a bloody mess. He was dead instantly. Dean leapt across the room to get to his brother, but checked himself when both of Walt's guns were aimed at her head.

"Stay the hell down!" Roy barked.

Hermione felt a single tear trickle down her face and saw the same sorrow, multiplied a hundred times in Dean's eyes.

"Shoot him." Walt ordered.

"Shootin' Sam was right." Roy argued, doubt obvious. "But Dean..."

"He made us...and we just snuffed his brother, ya idiot. You wanna spend the rest of your life knowing Dean Winchesters on your ass, cos I don't." The lights flickered as Hermione fought for control of her grief. "Shoot 'im."

Dean turned dark eyes on the hunter and Hermione tried to hold her trembling in check.

"Go ahead, Roy." He taunted. The lights flickered again. "But I'm gonna warn you. When I come back, I'm gone be pissed!" For one brief second he looked to Hermione before he snapped at the hunter. "COME ON! Let's get this show on the road."

Roy's finger trembled on the trigger.

"Oh, come on already." Dean drawled, as if bored.

He lifted one of the guns from Hermione's head and pulled the trigger. Dean jerked and flew backwards, hitting his pillows with a soft thump.

A wordless scream ripped from her throat and the light bulbs exploded.

"What the hell!" The hunters backed off, aiming their guns at her but still too shocked to fire.

Tears coursed down her face and she got to her feet slowly, summoning both her wand and Simiel to her.

"You killed them." She whispered, staring at the hunters with dead eyes. "Bring them back..." She begged brokenly. "Undo it!"

"Listen missy," Roy fumbled for the door handle, trying to keep his gun trained on her. Hermione locked the doors with a flick of her wand. "We're sorry about your boyfriends, really, but they had it coming."

"YOU KILLED THEM!" She shrieked.

"Shoot her!" Walt yelped as his gun was tugged out of his hands.

Hermione raised her wand.

"_Bombarda_." She whispered.

* * *

Dean returned from heaven, lungs gasping for air and he drew it in in large gulps. He blinked several times and stared over at his brother who was sitting in a similar position, blood stain still evident on his tattered shirt.

There was blood everywhere, he noticed as he looked around the room, far two much blood to have come from two chest wounds. It covered everything, the door, the walls...Hermione.

She was kneeling between the twin beds, her hair loose around her face and streaked with dark, wet matted strands. Her hands rested on the beds and Dean realised she'd been holding onto them whilst they'd been gone. Her lips were moving and, as he leaned closer he could just make out the words.

"...Sammy's dead, Dean's dead, Sammy's dead, Dean's dead. Get up, Granger. We've got to go. Find Castiel..."

"Hermione?" Sam asked cautiously.

"...gone, gone, gone, gone..."

"What happened to Roy and Walt?" Sam asked, slipping down so he was sitting by her side and wrapping his arms around her. Hermione didn't seem to notice and Sam sighed, tucking her head under his chin.

Dean looked around, staring at the remains by the door which were obviously human and then back at Hermione.

"I think she happened to them." He said slowly.

"She's in shock." Sam lifted her with him as he stood up, settling her on his lap and hugging her. "It's all right...we're okay." He murmured.

"Why would she do this?" Dean asked confused.

"They killed us in front of her..." Sam glared at him. "Are you completely nuts, Dean or do you not get how much we mean to her?"

"You two weren't just joking around when you call her your sister?" Dean eyed his brother and the almost comatose witch. "Were you?"

"No, Dean. I mean it. We don't got a lot of people who'll stick with us for the long haul and those that do, are _family. _It's okay. We're fine." He forced her to look in his eyes. "It's me. I'm okay. Hermione!"

"Sam?" She mumbled.

"Yeah. Hey!"

"Get her out of here." Dean barked, tossing him the keys to the Impala. "She doesn't need to see...this."

Sam nodded and carried Hermione from the room, making sure she didn't see any of the gore.

* * *

_**A/N**_

_**Sorry this took so long, but I'm heading to Uni this weekend and things have been busy with the voting. **_

_**For those of you who don't know, Scotland voted yesterday on Independence. I hope when I wake up this morning, it's not going to be to a yes vote. Sigh. **_

_**Wish us luck. We need it.**_

_**Hood.**_


	18. Point of No Return

Hermione had passed out not long after Sam got her into the Impala and Dean threw the bags into the boot and sent them out onto the road, leaving the grizzly scene behind them. They drove for hours, ignoring each other and the sticky remains of their own blood.

"She's not going to get better." Sam said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Dean's jaw clenched and he ignored his younger brother. Dean already knew where this was going.

"I'm serious." Sam continued, heedless of his brother's tension. "This PTSD, her nightmares, everything...it won't get better, not as long as this shit keeps happening to her."

"Sam..." Dean warned.

"She's never going to be stable or normal or..."

"You think I don't know that?" Dean thumped the steering wheel with his fist. "You think I don't know we're ruining her life?"

Sam sighed.

"No, but..."

"Just leave it, Sam." His brother ordered. "We'll stop at the next motel, get the blood off. Then we need to call Cas." Dean's fingers tapped an uneven rhythm against the wheel. It evidently wasn't a conversation he was looking forward to.

"Sam? Dean?"

Dean jerked the car to a stop, as Sam twisted around in his seat to look at Hermione.

She stared at them unblinkingly for thirty seconds and Dean knew because he counted every single one of them. Then the car filled with static as her magic buzzed angrily around them.

"Who are you?" Hermione hissed, furious.

Sam reached out to her.

"'Mione, it's us..."

"You're dead. They're dead!" Her hands scrabbled against the vinyl of the back seat. "Where's my wand?" She shrieked.

Sam and Dean glanced at each other guilty.

"It's in the trunk." Dean placated. "'Mione it's us...the angels brought us back. We're fine."

She paused and Dean hated his life that angels resurrecting him was a rational explanation.

"Prove it." She ordered, brown eyes suspicious.

"Your name's Hermione Jean Granger. You get mad when we make fun of your middle name. Castiel sent you to help us. You hate coffee..." Sam faltered and Dean took over.

"You're as fussy about what you eat as Sammy, you get nightmares, you kick in your sleep when they get really bad, you went to Hogwarts..."

The static faded slightly and she relaxed.

"You're not dead?" She whispered.

Sam, taking that as his cue, unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car, sliding in next to her in the back seat.

"It's us." He promised as he wrapped his arms around her. "We're okay." He met his brother's eyes for a second, not entirely surprised to find a certain amount of jealousy swimming in the bright green. Hermione leaned against his shoulder and Sam sighed heavily.

"What happened?" She asked, eyes closed.

Neither of them answered her and she opened her eyes to stare at them.

"No, really. What happened?" She reached out to brush a clump of hair from her face and her gaze caught on her sleeve which was spotted with blood. "What the..." She glanced down at herself, taking in the sheer volume of blood which covered her. Her skin was stained and her hair matted around her face. "Whose blood is this?" She demanded. Dean met her frightened eyes and stayed silent. "Dean?"

Sam drew in a deep breath.

"Those guys who shot us...They were dead when we got back. We're not sure what happened."

Hermione began to shake.

"I killed them."

"'Mione..."

"Didn't I?"

Dean winced as his brother pulled her closer.

"You weren't thinking straight." He placated. "It wasn't your..."

"Don't you dare say it wasn't my fault." She hissed and he was horrified to see her eyes were filling with tears. "Don't you dare!"

Dean turned around and gripped the steering wheel tight.

"We're gonna get to a motel. Clean up a bit. We'll talk then."

* * *

Hermione got the first shower. The brothers pretended they couldn't hear her crying through the door. The thing about living in constant contact with the same two people meant that you had to learn to ignore some things. Privacy is only an illusion after all.

She emerged dressed in her pyjamas ten minutes later and there was brief scuffle as Sam and Dean both tried to get into the bathroom at the same time. Sam won, leaving Dean to unpack the rest of their gear.

"Can I see?"

He whirled and stared at her.

"What?"

"Your chest." Hermione pointed at the tattered, bloody fabric. Her eyes were red and swollen, much like her skin which looked as though she'd tried to scrub it raw. "Can I see? I just..."

"Yeah, sure." He stripped off his shirt. "We're okay." he added when she just stared at him. "Don't...ooph!"

She crashed into him with the force of bullet train and hugged him tightly.

"How come you can hug like that but not land a decent punch half the time?" Dean teased as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

"Shut up." Hermione mumbled.

When they had all showered, dressed and each been given glass of hunters helper, Dean finally started to talk.

"We went to Heaven."

Hermione froze and stared at them. Dean nodded grumpily. "Yeah. Apparently we've been before but we just couldn't remember it. Dicks wiped our memories." She held up a hand.

"Should Cas be here for this?" She pointed out dully, picking at a loose thread in her pyjamas.

Dean paused and nodded.

"Yeah..." He reached for his phone but Hermione shook her head.

"Don't bother. I'm not hidden. Castiel," She breathed. There was a flap of wings and the angel appeared, frowning as Hermione tensed.

"Why didn't you call for me sooner?" He asked.

"Us?" Dean snapped, incredulous. "What about her?" They all stared at him, confused by his sudden anger. "She thought we were dead, Cas! Couldn't you have dropped her a line? Clued her in on the plan?"

"Dean.." Hermione begged. "Just leave it..."

"No." He turned back to the angel, six feet, one inch of righteous anger. "We're family, man. That's means you taking the fucking thirty _seconds_ you'd have needed to tell her we were all right!"

"Dean..." Hermione repeated. Sam settled down by her side, waiting for the moment when the soldier of God snapped. It wasn't a long wait.

"I was _busy_!" Castiel bellowed. "I have more duties than you can possibly imagine. I am hunted, my brothers seek to kill me!"

"Stop!" Hermione whispered, voice echoing around the room. "Just stop. Please. Tell your story, Dean."

So Dean told his story. About waking up in the Impala, surrounded by the open road. About seeing Sam's favourite memories. Hermione caught the sharp glance he sent at his brother when these were mentioned and guessed the brothers had found yet another thing they didn't like about each other. He told them about meeting Zachariah and the resulting fight, and then about how Joshua had saved them. She sensed he was stalling as he described the Garden in Heaven and she knew why when he finally relayed God's message. God didn't want to be found. He didn't want to help and he _wasn't_ going to.

Hermione had seen many things in her short life, but watching an angel lose his faith was something she never wanted to see again. His wings, invisible to most, drooped, so the tips dragged on the floor behind him, leaving a trail of shedding black feathers. He paced the motel room in restless silence before he lashed out suddenly, driving his fist through the drywall.

"I believed in you." He hissed and Hermione flinched back into Sam. "You son of a bitch." he reached into his pocket and pulled out the amulet which he tossed to Dean. "I won't need this any more. It's worthless." He vanished without another word.

Hermione watched the emotions cross Dean's face as Sam got to his feet, lashing out at bits of furniture.

"So what now?" Sam demanded.

"We keep looking." Hermione whispered hoarsely. "We find a way to open the cage."

"Or I say yes to Michael and we get this whole thing over and done with."

For a second there was utter silence and then Hermione scoffed.

"Right. No, we'll find something."

"How can you be so damn optimistic?" Dean demanded, rounding on her. Hermione glared at him. "You're like Sam. Sometimes these things can't be fixed. Sometimes we don't get to be happy. We haven't got any options left and I'm not listening to a plan that involves Lucifer. Even if my brother wants nothing to do with me."

Sam's head snapped up and he gazed at his brother in shock.

"Dean..."

"Save it." He growled, snatching up his coat. "Your happiest memories are being away from me. That's fine. I'm leaving." He paused by the door and looked down at the necklace in his hand. Time seemed to freeze as he opened his fingers and dropped the amulet he'd worn continuously since he was twelve into the bin. "I'll be back in the morning."

Sam almost whimpered as the door slammed shut behind his brother, leaving him and Hermione alone.

"I'll kill him." Hermione whispered. "That's unfeeling..._jerk_." She spat, borrowing one of Sam's favourite words.

"Hermione..." Sam murmured. "He had his reasons. My heaven's were just made up of things without Dean, what was he supposed to think?"

"Sam," Hermione groaned. "You told me how you grew up. It sounds like hell as far as I'm concerned. Just because you want a normal life...Listen, who's the most important person in your life?"

"Dean." Sam blurted.

"Exactly." She leaned back on the bed, pulling the duvet over herself. "He'll come around. I'm sure of it."

She was just drifting off to sleep, when Sam dangled something in front of her nose.

"Here." He tucked the amulet into her hand. "I want you to have it."

Hermione met his eyes, startled.

"Sam, I couldn't..."

"Don't." He smiled slightly. "Dean ever tell you I meant to give it to Dad?" She shook her head and he nodded. "Yeah, well might as well give it to you now."

Hermione pulled the necklace over her head, thumbs tracing the two newest runes carved, invisible, into her collar bones.

This would be worth it, she decided, hugging Sam tightly. For them, anything would.

* * *

Hermione took care to keep the amulet hidden, even going to far as to place a Notice-Me-Not charm on it. She could only imagine what Dean would say. The hunter in question drove them up to South Dakota in a stony silence, broken only by the turning of pages as Hermione and Sam read in the back seat. The younger Winchester has retreated to the back of the car, unable to stand the awkward silence between he and his brother. Several times Hermione caught Dean's eyes in the rear view mirror as he looked longingly at Sam. She was too tired to call him out on it. Hermione's nightmares reached a new peak as she relived the boys deaths over and over again. In many ways it was helpful. There was nothing like waking up screaming to remind you of why you doing something.

* * *

They spent three days at Singer Salvage under the watchful eye of Ellen and Bobby, and Hermione probably only noticed the absence in their lives when Sam dragged her away from her research. He winced as he took her in. She was paler than usual and large bruise sat under her eyes, which were bleary and bloodshot. Despite Ellen's clucking, Hermione managed to get around the woman's orders through sheer stubbornness.

"Have you been sleeping?" He asked uncomfortably. This was usually Dean's question and it felt wrong to be the one asking it. Hermione evidently agreed, because she glared up at him, shoving her hair out of her face.

"I'm _fine_. What did you want?" Her temper had been shorter recently, but Sam was worried enough to let it go.

"Dean's gone!" He announced, waving his hands about.

Hermione sighed, rubbing the heels of her hands against her eyes.

"He went out to get food. He told you that."

Sam grabbed her wrists, forcing her to pay attention to him.

"That was _yesterday__,_ Hermione!"

Hermione frowned, lips parting as a hundred thoughts and emotions raced across her eyes.

"He wouldn't." She breathed.

Sam shrugged.

"You heard him. I think he'd do anything."

Hermione nodded coldly and began packing books into her bag.

"We need to find him." She decided and Sam relaxed slightly, glad that someone else had taken his concerns to heart. "Where would he go?"

Sam grabbed his duffel bag and shrugged.

"It's Dean. Anywhere. But we do have a problem."

Hermione stared at him, tired eyes still not quite focused.

"He took the Impala."

* * *

The old banger, as Hermione's father would have called it, rattled endlessly as they sped along the road. Hermione's spell could give them a general direction but there was no knowing how far they'd have to go.

"I'm going to put a tracking spell on him, I swear I am."

Sam grunted an agreement.

"This would be a lot easier if he hadn't blocked his phone." He added, glaring out at the tarmac.

"Like you said," She murmured. "He's your brother. He knows exactly what you'd try." She glanced at the wand balanced precariously on the saucer full of blood. "Take the next left."

"You're like the worst Sat Nav ever." Sam grumbled.

"I don't know what that is." Hermione told him coolly.

"It gives you directions to where you're going. Dean hates them."

"Why?"

He shrugged.

"He thinks they're annoying. And besides, Dean never gets lost."

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Ever?" She asked doubtfully.

"Nope." Sam grinned like a little boy showing off his brother for the first time. "He has an amazing sense of direction. We've never gotten lost, like ever."

"We'll find him." She promised, leaning her head against the window.

"Hey 'Mione?" Sam took the long sigh as permission to continue. "Why don't the angels like you?"

"Which ones?" Hermione asked. "There are many reasons."

Sam rolled his eyes. There were occasions when getting an answer out of his best friend was like getting a straight answer out of Castiel.

"The main one."

She snorted softly.

"We're not normal."

Sam waited. When several miles had passed and Hermione still hadn't said anything else, he tried again.

"Not normal, how?"

"Well," Hermione murmured. "It might have something to do with the magic, _or_, and I'm guessing here, it might be the robes they take exception to. Angels have an odd taste in fashion."

Sam told himself very firmly that she was under a lot of stress right now and was probably very tired, and that she'd only jinx him if he lost his temper. He had not enjoyed being a tortoise.

"Why don't they like the magic?"

"It's not natural."

"Hermione..."

She smirked.

"I mean it. It's not natural. To an angel, at least. Everything came from God, correct?" Sam nodded. "To an angel at least. Anything that didn't is...wrong. Things like Wendigos and Spirits are just...humans gone wrong. But magicals...our magic didn't come from God, as far as we're aware. It came from the Earth, in one way or another."

Sam nodded to show he understood and there was quiet for a while.

"'Mione?"

"How did Dean put up with you as a child?" Hermione whined.

Sam shrugged.

"He used to lock me in the bathroom till I shut up. Anyway, how come the wizards won't help?"

"The International Statute of Secrecy."

Sam ran that through his mental knowledge of wizards and came up blank. She explained before he could ask.

"It's a law which prevents wizards from revealing themselves to muggles. It was put into place after the witch trials." Hermione pulled Dean's jacket, now shrunk to fit, closer around herself. "Kingsley will not authorise any action by the wizarding community which will place us at risk of exposure."

"But it's the Apocalypse!" Sam protested, disgusted.

Hermione hummed.

"I'm aware. I know that, you know it, Kingsley...believes it. But he cannot be seen to take action just because I tell him too. It's all...politics." She waved a hand in irritation. "So he'll help me, give me aid and a salary and everything...but he can't _do_ anything else. Take the next right please."

Sam took that as the cue to shut up.

* * *

They got close in Illinois.

Sam stared down at the fresh flowers and sighed heavily. They were both exhausted and any anger they'd been holding on to, had long since burned down to a dull simmer.

"He's been here all right."

Hermione was standing behind him, so she couldn't read the words on the gravestone, partly obscured by bright flowers.

"Who is it?" She asked gently.

Sam snorted.

"No one." He mumbled. "Not really. There's no grave, just a stone. Mom's uncle put it up."

"I didn't know you had an uncle." She murmured.

"We don't." Sam shrugged. "All of mom's family were killed off by the yellow-eyed demon and we never met any of them anyway." He turned to leave. "I'm gonna take a walk. See you in a few minutes?" He strode off without waiting for an answer and Hermione nodded, kneeling down beside the grave stone.

She waited until she was sure Sam couldn't hear her before she spoke.

"Hello Mary." She murmured. "We met once. You won't remember, I suspect. You took me to the hospital and held my hand as they healed me. You were very kind." She smiled wryly. "You remind me of Lily in many ways. She died for her children too. They're good men, both of them, I just...You're watching over them, I'm sure. I know Sam said they didn't find you in Heaven, but I don't think they'd have left if they had. I just...I want you to know I'm doing my best. I'll try and keep them safe."

* * *

They eventually tracked him down. It was a motel like the hundreds of others they had stayed in, complete with faded walls and an empty pool.

"He's definitely in there?"

Hermione glared up at him as she vanished the blood from the saucer and Sam winced.

"Sorry. Okay. I'll go in the front. You get Cas and go in the back."

"Good luck."

* * *

"Sending a care package?"

Dean straightened up and turned to face his brother.

"How'd you find me?" He demanded.

Sam scoffed and leaned back against the door, effectively blocking the only form of escape.

"Please. I've known you my entire life. Besides 'Mione tracked you."

Dean scowled.

"This is it, right?" his brother continued. "You're were just gonna kill yourself? Took us a while to work out what you were up. How's mom's grave?"

"I'm not going to kill myself." Dean said, unable to look Sam in the eyes. He sealed the box he'd been packing. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Right. So you're not going to say yes to Michael? What the hell, Dean? _This_ is how it ends for us? You just walk out on us? We're family and you were just gonna mail us a box?"

Dean flushed and shrugged.

"How could you do that to us?" Sam demanded. "Me, 'Mione, Bobby, Ellen. Cas even! Don't we mean something to you?"

"That's rich coming from you." Dean snapped. "All you've_ ever_ done is run."

Sam nodded slowly.

"And I was wrong. Every time. Just...come back. Please. 'Mione's working on something, you know she is."

"I know she's getting weaker!" Dean yelled, suddenly furious and Sam stepped back in shock. "If what she's working on kills her, I'd rather go to Michael!"

"You know I have to stop you." Sam murmured as Dean stepped back.

"You can try." His big brother glared at him. "Fight you can't win, Sammy. You're not hopped up on demon blood any more..."

"Yeah, but I brought help." He smiled coldly. "And they are _pissed_!"

Dean wheeled to see Castiel and Hermione standing directly behind him. Both wore stony expressions that did little to hide the fury behind their eyes. No one could say whether the stunning spell or Castiel's fingertips met Dean first but the result was the same either way. Dean slumped to the floor and Hermione kicked one booted foot into his groin.

"He deserved it." She muttered. Sam winced in sympathy but didn't disagree.

"Let's just get him back to Bobby's in one piece, okay?"

* * *

Dean woke up in the Panic Room, alone.

"You were just going to hand yourself over to Michael?" Hermione hissed.

Well, almost alone.

He glared at her balefully, the faint clink of handcuffs telling him he was restrained.

"I was trying to fix this!" he told her. "Michael can fix all of this. He can keep _you_ safe."

"Did it ever," She stressed, _"ever,_ cross your tiny little mind, that this wasn't your mess to fix?"

"I broke the first seal!" He protested. "I started all of this!"

"So, what!" Hermione got to her feet and began pacing, her hair streaming behind her in a crackling mess of static and curls. "After everything we've done for you, you were just going to say yes anyway? What happened to Team Free Will?"

"Life!" He bellowed, pulling against the handcuffs holding him to the wall. "We have tried everything and nothings worked so far!"

"Castiel Fell for you!" She screamed in return. "I am killing myself for you! Dear Merlin, can't you just let us fix this for you?"

Dean's mind stuttered, caught on that one phrase.

"What are you doing?" He begged. "Hermione..."

She looked away, sighing.

"Nothing, Dean." She lied.

"Look at me." He bellowed. "Look at me!" She turned to face him, scowling. "Promise me you're not gonna get yourself killed."

"Dean..."

"Promise me!"

Hermione's jaw clenched and she looked away for a moment. Then her brown eyes met his and Dean almost flinched at the sheer volume of fear he saw there.

"It won't kill me." She promised and she wasn't lying. Dean could tell. He just wasn't sure why that made everything seem much worse. "Trust me on that."

"'Mione..."

She shook herself.

"You've got two options." She told him darkly. "You can stay down here, or you can come upstairs and help."

* * *

He wasn't helping. Hindering was much more accurate and sulking would have described it to a tee. Ellen had taken one look at him and snatched the keys to her car off the counter and headed out for a drive.

"You're not gonna find anything." He grumbled.

Sam, very slowly, began to move anything breakable away out of the witch's close proximity. It was a miracle that Hermione, as exhausted as she was, had managed to keep her temper for so long. Sam wasn't going to bet on it lasting out the next time minutes though. By the way Bobby was shifting his whiskey bottles, neither was he.

"What the hell happened to you?" The older hunter demanded. "Why'd you give up hope?"

"Reality." Dean pushed off from the wall, glaring at all of them. "Nuclear is the only option we've got left..."

"Dean..." Sam begged.

"No! You think I'm okay with some plan that gets all of you killed? If something happens to you, hell, to the world and I could have done something about it?" Castiel sighed heavily, leaning against the wall. "That's on me." Dean continued.

Hermione snapped.

"That's it!" She shrieked, whirling to face Dean. "I've had enough of this. Bloody heroes! What is it about the idea of sacrificing yourself that you all find so bloody attractive?" Sam stepped back out of the way as Hermione stood toe to toe with his brother. "Ever since I was twelve years old I've put up with this rubbish! You know what Dean, you and Harry need to get it through your skulls that just because you think it's the only option doesn't make it the right one! Do you remember what happened to last time you sacrificed yourself? Do you?"

Sam flinched.

"The world ended!" She yelled. "And no, I'm not talking about the seals, so get that self depreciating expression off your face. I'm talking about Sam! _His_ bloody world ended! How the hell can you ever _think_ of putting him through that again?"

Dean leaned closer so there was a scant inch between them.

"Don't you think you know a damn thing about me!" He snarled. "You ain't my friend, you ain't my family and you sure as hell don't get a say in what I do. So why don't you run off home and live out your life with your _fucking_ boyfriend?"

_Crack_!

Dean blinked at her as his cheek began to flush a dull red. Hermione clutched her hand to her chest.

"How many times have I saved your life?" She whispered, backing away from him. "How many times have I helped you? How much of my life have I _given up_ because of you?"

Dean opened his lips to answer but a loud groan from the corner of the room distracted them. Castiel held his head between his palms, his face screwed up in agony.

"Cas?" Hermione asked, but the angel vanished without a word.

* * *

The uneasy silence in Bobby's living room was broken by the flap of wings as Castiel touched down on the carpet. A figure was cradled in his arms, and the angel lowered him onto the sofa. Hermione rushed forward, wand already moving through the air to clean the mud off the figure.

"Who is this?" she asked, taking in the short blond hair and angular features as she knelt on the floor, a steady stream of spells leaving her wand.

Sam and Dean stood there in shocked silence.

"Dean?" She demanded, apparently forgetting her anger as she set about healing the boy. And he was a boy, no older than eighteen. "Do you know him?"

"Yeah." Dean coughed, voice hoarse. "He's our brother."

She froze.

"What?" She gasped.

"He's our brother." Dean repeated, staring at the boy.

"Half-brother." Sam corrected, equally shocked. "Technically."

Hermione got to her feet looking at them with wide eyes.

"On which side?" She whispered, although she suspected she already knew the answer.

"Our Dad's." Dean frowned at her. "Does it matter?"

Hermione paled so suddenly she swayed on the spot. "Yeah." She whispered faintly. "It matters."

Sam darted forward, pressing his fingers to the boy's neck, checking for a pulse. Hermione's magic was doing it's work though, as a strong heartbeat thumped under his skin.

"How come?" He asked distractedly.

"Bloodlines." She murmured. "Michael was able to possess your father because he was a Winchester. He's," She waved a hand at the sofa. "A Winchester. Prime vessel material." Her eyes narrowed suddenly. "Why didn't you tell me you had another brother?"

"Didn't think it mattered." Sam mumbled. "He was dead."

"Dead." she whispered and this time she turned to look at Castiel, who'd been standing silently. "They brought him back?" Castiel nodded prompting Hermione to laugh bitterly.

"What?" Dean asked warily.

"Typical." She murmured. "You held out for so long that Michael lost interest."

"What are you saying?"

Hermione smirked.

"Your little farewell was for nothing. They've got something easier now. Dean Winchester," She pointed at the boy. "Say hello to the Michael Sword: Plan B."

Dean's face slackened in shock and he missed Castiel moving swiftly across the room.

"We must hide him." he murmured and pressed two fingers to the boy's chest. The boy's eyes opened and Hermione stepped backwards, content to stay out of this moment.

"Where am I?" He asked, pushing himself upright.

"It's all right, Adam." Sam assured him. "You're safe."

"Who are you?"

Castiel, Hermione and Bobby exchanged a wary glance as the Winchesters floundered.

"We're...uh...your brothers." Dean offered.

"It's true." Sam added earnestly. "We're John Winchester's sons. I'm Sam and..."

"...That's Dean." The boy, Adam, finished. "Yeah," He spat bitterly. "I know who you are."

"How?" Castiel demanded, stepping forward.

"They warned me about you." Adam's eyes darted to the exits. "The angels. Where the hell is Zachariah?"

Hermione pushed past the stunned brothers and stood in front of Adam smiling gently.

"Why don't you start at the beginning and we'll get this whole story figured out. Okay?"

Adam faltered and, at her coaxing, told them everything. He'd been relaxing in his heaven, when the angels had appeared and told him he was going to save the world.

"Shit." Dean breathed.

Hermione didn't say "I told you so." but it was a close thing. Adam watched them curiously.

"You know this has been really interesting, and all, but I got a thing so..."

"WAIT!"

Adam stared at them and Hermione smiled uneasily.

"Sorry." She murmured. "Listen, why don't you stay for a bit? Please, until we get this whole thing sorted out. I'm sure Sam and Dean would like to get to know you properly."

"So?" Adam scowled. "Who the hell are you anyway?"

"My name's Hermione and..."

Adam leapt away from her.

"They told me about you!" He snapped. "You're the _witch_."

Hermione jerked back surprised at his vehemence.

"She's a sorceress." Dean corrected and everyone stared at him. "What? I'm not allowed to know things now?"

"Adam," Sam said gently. "The angels are lying to you."

"No, they're not."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Really?"

"Yeah." Adam shifted uncomfortably. "They're angels. Why would they lie?"

Sam sighed.

"Did they tell you they were going to roast half the planet?" Sam asked. "Or that most of the world would die?"

"They said it'd get pretty hairy." Adam defended. "But it's the Devil. We gotta stop him."

"There's another way..."

"Oh, yeah. What is it?"

Sam, Bobby and Castiel all turned to look at Hermione, who resolutely refused to look up from her boots.

"Oh, no! You want me to trust her? She's evil!"

"HEY!" Dean barked.

Adam rolled his eyes.

"What? Just cause your sleeping with her can't mean you're blind. The angels told me what she did!"

Hermione glanced up sharply, surprised when Dean brushed that last statement aside.

"Yeah, we've all done stuff we're not proud of, but she's one of the good guys."

"And I'm not sleeping with him!" Hermione added shrilly.

Castiel turned a confused look on her and she flushed.

"Shut up." She hissed.

"Look," Sam dragged them all back on topic. "I know you don't know me but please, I'm begging you, just stick around for a bit. Give me and 'Mione some time to fix this."

"Give me one good reason."

"We're blood."

Adam's expression became cold.

"You've got no right to say that to me." He hissed.

Sam cast around hopelessly and Bobby spoke up.

"You're John's son."

"Oh, yeah. The guy who showed up once a year to take me to a baseball game. Not really a father figure. We may be blood, but we're not family. The only family I've got is my mom and she's who I get back. If I do my job, I get to see her again."

Sam sighed.

"Fair enough. But if you've got one good memory of dad, _something_, then you'll give us a little more time. Please!"

* * *

"We can't keep him here." Hermione murmured, watching the boy eat from the doorway. "He's already tried to run away twice."

Sam grunted, trying to stop himself from banging his head against the wall. Dean was downstairs, once again on lock down. Sam had guessed where his thoughts had been going when he'd caught Dean sneaking out for the third time and had Castiel lock his big brother up. Between stopping Adam saying yes to Michael, and stopping Dean from saying yes to Michael so _he_ could stop Adam from saying yes to Michael, Sam was reaching the end of his tether.

"Go have a rest." Hermione pushed him in the direction of the sofa. "I'll talk to him."

Adam glanced up warily when she sat down and Hermione ignored the pang of hurt she felt. Being feared wasn't something she wanted.

"What did they tell you about me?" She asked gently.

"You killed an innocent angel." Adam accused.

Hermione flinched, but nodded.

"I did, but, in my defense, Simiel was trying to kill me." Adam seemed to pause at that and she continued. "Lucifer was being freed from the Cage. We were trying to stop it. Sam was...in a bad place at the time. He didn't know what he was doing. The angels had Dean up in Heaven and Castiel was...confused. I was trying to stop Sam from opening the cage. Zachariah ordered his angels to stop me. To kill me." She drew the angel blade out from her sleeve and set it on the table. Her thumb rubbed over the faint etchings. "I almost died trying to get through them."

"You're lying!" Adam snapped, but she was pleased to see the beginnings of doubt in his blue eyes.

"Am I?" She shrugged.

"Why are you even helping them?" He asked.

"There's a prophecy." Hermione winced when he looked disbelieving. "Apparently I'm going to save Dean's life someday. He doesn't know that, of course."

"So you're not here to stop the Apocalypse?"

She frowned.

"Of course I am. But that's not what brought me here." She gave him a bitter smile. "They're trying to save the whole world and I'm here for one man. Still...think about what I said. I'm not lying. I'll try and keep you safe as well. Sam and Dean...for all that I love them..."

"They're co-dependant." Adam said dully. "It's what the angels called them."

Hermione shrugged.

"It's been just them for a very long time. Dean's first priority will always be Sam, no matter what he says otherwise. The same applies to Sam." She sighed. "My point is, Adam, that the lengths they will go to for family are above and beyond the call of duty. If you wanted, that could apply to you too."

Adam's lip curled.

"And what about you?"

She shrugged delicately.

"Like I said. Above and beyond."

* * *

Hermione had gone out, so she'd missed Dean's successful escape attempt.

"What happened?" She demanded.

"Dean banished Cas." Sam muttered tightly. Adam was asleep on the nearest sofa, Bobby watching him carefully.

"He can't have gotten far." Hermione placated. "Bobby stays here to watch Adam, we'll go out and look for Dean. It'll be fine."

Sam shot her a bitter look that told her he saw straight through her attempt at sympathy and stomped out of the house.

"Girl," She paused in the door and looked at Bobby. "You take care of yourself?"

She nodded, smiling.

"Don't worry about me."

* * *

Sam and Hermione were gone twenty minutes at the most, when they got a call from Bobby.

"Cas found him." The older hunter's voice was tight with anger. "'pparently he was in a church, tryin' ta call Michael. And we got another problem."

"What?" Hermione asked, as she tapped Sam's shoulder and told him to turn them back around.

"Adam's gone."

Hermione almost dropped the phone.

"What do you mean "_gone_"?"

"Should I say it in Spanish?" Bobby snapped. "He's gone. Vanished inta thin air!"

"You were supposed to be watching him." Hermione cried.

"Don't you take that tone with me, girl."

Sam glanced at her curiously as she glowered at the dashboard.

"We'll be back in twenty minutes." She muttered, resolutely not apologising.

* * *

"What do you mean "_the angels took him_"?" Sam demanded.

Castiel gave him the blank stare which meant he wasn't sure if Sam was being rhetorical or not.

"And what happened to Dean?" Hermione asked as she came upstairs from the basement.

"I did."

Hermione looked at the angel for a second before she shrugged.

"He deserved it." She announced. "I thought the wards on Adam were impassible."

"They are." Castiel's eyes narrowed. "Adam must have tipped them off somehow."

"How?" Ellen asked, speaking up for the first time. She pressed a mug into Hermione's hand as she passed, patting the other woman on the back.

"In a dream perhaps." The angel shrugged, his wings rustling in irritation. "It is not of import."

"Where would they take him?" Sam asked as Hermione drained her drink.

"The Green Room." Castiel suggested. "Perhaps."

"Can we check?" Hermione asked. The angel nodded and she summoned her bag. "Let's go then. Sam, don't let Dean out."

With that said, she grasped the angels sleeve and they both vanished.

* * *

The Green Room, was set up with white wall panels and ornate furniture. Hermione and Castiel hovered on the outside, barely visibly. They watched as Adam hauled himself into a chair, blood dripping from his lips.

"Leave me here." Hermione whispered.

Castiel glanced at her.

"The angels will come after you." He warned.

"I can banish them." She assured him. "So get Sam and Dean and come back with reinforcements. I don't know what they've done to him but I think we want him in one piece."

Castiel rolled him eyes and allowed her to let go of his trench coat.

Adam jumped as Hermione appeared to step into existence. She held one finger to her lips and he watched her silently. Moving efficiently, she began to ward the room to the best of her ability. It wouldn't keep Zachariah out forever but it might do for a bit.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, grimacing as she dipped her fingers in the blood he'd left on the floor, quickly smearing it into the appropriate sidgil.

"They betrayed me." Adam whispered.

Hermione winced.

"I know. Sam and Dean are coming. Don't worry. Now, tell me what hurts."

Adam gestured vaguely to his torso and Hermione summoned the general healing potion from her bag.

"Let's hope they didn't decide to get creative, shall we?" She offered, smiling tightly. Adam swallowed the potion without even smelling it and Hermione watched as some of the pain around his eyes eased.

"Well, well...look what the seraph dragged in."

Hermione stiffened as the grace washed over her.

"Zachariah." She greeted coolly. "I don't believe we've met." She turned slowly so she was blocking the sidgil on the floor with her body, spare hand grasping for her wand.

The angel was balding and tall, the sort of man who looked like he belonged in middle management. His suit was wrinkled though and his expression close to thunderous.

"What does it take to get you to leave?" He hissed. "I mean really, we tried everything and you just won't die."

Hermione's insides froze as she stared at the angel, ignoring Adam's insistent tugs on her shirt.

Zachariah sneered.

"What? You thought demons were that efficient? Your parents? That was us. Call it a little warning from above. And you didn't get the message!"

She staggered, her mind for once completely blank.

"You..."

"Yep." The angel smiled brightly.

"You know nothing of human nature." Hermione cocked her head to the side, holding back the tears. "Do you?" She slammed her palm into the sidgil and...nothing happens.

"They smudged it." Adam whispered. "That's what I was trying to tell you."

The fear wraps around her suddenly and Hermione almost shakes.

"Keep behind me." She ordered, getting to her feet and sinking into the stance Sam had taught her a hundred time before.

Zachariah laughed.

"What are you going to do against me? Really?" He paused and tilted his head as though listening to something Hermione couldn't hear. "_Castiel_." He hissed angrily.

The door burst open with such force that it crashed into the wall, the handle leaving a dent in the plaster.

"You okay?" Dean barked as he and Sam rushed into the room.

Hermione nodded and shoved Adam towards Sam.

"Go." She ordered.

The door slammed shut before either Winchester could get near it.

"Dean." Zachariah scolded, like a disappointed school master. "Did you really think it would be that easy?"

Dean smirked.

"Did you?"

Zachariah sighed and waved his hand at Hermione, without turning around to look. She, with Simiel in her hand, had been creeping up on the angel. He sent her flying across the room and into the wall, where she slid to the floor by Sam's feet.

"'Mione!" Dean yelled.

"You know what I've learned from this?" The angel explained. "Patience. That's how you deal with Winchesters." He waved his hand again and all the damage Hermione repaired was undone with one lazy gesture. Adam fell to his knees, blood bubbling from between his lips.

"Let him go!" Dean ordered.

"I thought I was fired for sure." Zachariah continued. "And that's...fairly literal. But it's all going fine. You, me and your hemorrhaging siblings." He clenched his fist and Sam, who'd been attempting to prop up his half-brother, joined him on the floor, choking on his own blood.

"Stop it." Dean begged, eyes darting around the room.

"You know there's no other choice." The angel sighed.

"Stop it now!"

"You're finally ready?" The angel beamed. "You know you've got no other choice, don't you?"

Sam met his brother's eyes as the truth sank in.

"Let them go." He pleaded.

"For a price."

Dean tore his eyes away from Sam and sighed heavily.

"Yes." He whispered.

"Dean...no." Sam begged.

"You hear me?" Dean spoke over his brother. "The answers yes!"

Zachariah, for all his confidence, began to look doubtful.

"How do I know you're not lying?" He asked, cautiously.

"Do I look like I'm lying?" Dean snapped, incredulous.

"Very well." Zachariah began to chant in Enochian and Dean winked at his brother. Somehow, Sam found the strength to push himself to his feet, slinging one of Hermione's arms around him as he did so. Adam snatched up her wand and bag, passing them to his brother as they began to edge towards the door.

"Of course," Dean smirked. "I've got a few conditions. People who's safety you've got to guarantee before I say yes."

"Make a list." Zachariah snapped.

"And Michael can't have me until he disintegrate _you_."

Zachariah froze.

"You think Michael's gonna fall for that?" He bellowed. "You're nothing but a..."

"Maggot, worm, blah, blah, blah." the hunter grinned. "Bottom line though, me or him. Who do you think Michael's going to care about more?"

"Do you know who I am!" Zachariah snapped. "After I deliver you to Michael I am..."

"Expendable."

"Michael's not going to kill me!"

"Maybe not..." Dean scooped up Hermione's fallen blade. "But I am." He sunk Simiel in under the angel's jaw, grimacing as light exploded from the angel's eyes. The door sprung open and Dean turned to them. "Can you walk?" He demanded, leaving the corpse behind them. The room began to shake and Adam clutched at his ears, as the high pitched impossible noise that signal Michael's arrival began to sound.

Sam nodded.

"Yeah."

"You take 'Mione and go!" Dean ordered. He followed Sam out of the room and turned back to make sure Adam got out as well.

The white paneled door slammed shut in his face, his half brother trapped behind it.

"DEAN!"

Dean rammed his shoulder against the wood and got nothing but a swollen shoulder for his efforts.

"ADAM!"

The white light seeping around the door frame, rose to a crescendo before it began to fade. Dean finally got the door open to reveal...an empty office room.

Adam was gone.

* * *

"What happened?" Hermione asked as Sam dabbed alcohol over the cut on the back of her head.

"Michael took Adam." Dean drank straight from the whiskey bottle. "Cas took out the guard angels but we haven't seen him since. We'll find them."

"No." Hermione sighed, meeting his gaze. "What happened with you? You were going to say yes."

Sam didn't say anything but his silence meant that he was asking exactly the same question.

Dean gave a soft snort.

"I didn't wanna let you down. I just...You were right, you know? You've given up so much for me and...yeah. I didn't want to let you down. I guess, I owe you an apology."

"No, you don't." Sam assured him.

"Let him speak." Hermione said seriously.

Dean smiled weakly.

"I just...Sam's always been this little kid I had to look after and, I know you're not now, I mean, look at you. But still...I don't wanna end up hurting him again. And 'Mione you're..." She cocked her head to one side as Dean stared at the floor, swinging the bottle between his fingertips. "You, I guess. So, I figured why don't we do this our way?"

"Charge in guns blazing?" Sam supplied doubtfully.

"Yeah." He gave them a crooked grin. "We do it our way, we take them down, we finish this whole damn Apocalypse once and for all and _no one _get left behind." He stared Hermione down. "No one."

She smiled softly and summoned her bag.

"Take off your shirt." She ordered.

Dean stared at her, a faint blush appearing on his cheekbones.

"You could at least buy me a drink first."

Hermione glared at him until he pulled his t-shirt over his head and she produced an small inkwell and a quill.

"Turn around."

Sam watched, curious, as she very carefully inked runes onto the middle of Dean's back. His brother twisted to try and see what she was doing.

"It's permanent ink." She murmured, tongue caught between her teeth as she concentrated. "This should allow me to track you. It's basic magic. I'm fed up with losing you two in this ridiculous country." She added as Dean looked doubtful. "You're done."

Dean crossed the room and almost dislocated his spine trying to see. Rolling his eyes, Sam snapped a picture on his phone and showed it to his brother.

"You next." Hermione ordered, as Dean squinted at the screen.

Sam pulled up his shirt and allowed her to scratch cold ink onto his skin, resisting the urge to squirm at the unusual sensation.

"What's it mean?"

Hermione flushed as she screwed the lid on the inkwell firmly and tucked it safely back into her bag.

"It's just a few naming runes that are linked to me." She murmured. "They won't wash off. Not for a few months at least."

Dean frowned, knowing there was something she wasn't telling him.

"Yeah, but what do they mean?"

Hermione had almost closed the door to the bathroom behind her when she answered.

"They're my initials."

The door closed with a click and Sam pulled his shirt back on snatching his phone away from his brother.

"Just, fyi," He teased. "The look on your face right now is nauseating."

* * *

**_A/N_**

**_This chapter is dedicated to Sabrina. _**

**_Thanks for everyone who waited for this with patience. I just started college and moved into dorms and everything's gotten on top of me. So, I am sorry about that. _**

**_Also, For those of you who read Mark of Gabriel, I'm afraid we're going on hiatus for the foreseeable future. Sabrina, my co-author, died several days ago and as things stand I'm rather at a loss as to what to do. Those of you who follow me on Tumblr will have gotten the longer version of this explanation. _**

**_Still, keep her family in your thoughts please. _**

**_Other than that, I don't really know what to do. _**

**_And also, Cassbutt-Destiel, this ones for you too. As promised. _**

**_Hood_**


	19. Hammer of the Earth

The next week passed in uneasy awkwardness. Hermione was called back home for a hunt, leaving Sam and Dean with too much silence to fill and no witch between them. Sam hadn't completely forgiven his brother for attempting to say yes to Michael and Dean hadn't forgotten their trip to heaven. Needless to say they only spoke when necessary.

Or when Dean simply couldn't stand it any more.

"You think she's okay?" Dean asked when Thursday rolled around with no sign of their witch.

Sam glanced at him over the top of his laptop, frowned and looked back down.

"She's fine." He murmured.

"You don't know that." Dean argued.

"Actually, I do." Sam held up his phone without looking up from his work. "She texted me. Apparently some water spirit is giving her some trouble. Said not to expect her back until Friday at least."

Dean pouted.

"How come she told you?"

Sam fought hard to keep the smirk off his face.

"Because she's still mad at you." He pointed out. "_And_, because she's my friend. We talk."

Dean huffed angrily.

"Does she need our help?" He asked at last.

"Are you insane?" Sam didn't wait for an answer. "We don't know about what it's like over there. Besides you know how much she sticks out here, we'd be worse over there."

Five minutes passed in silence until Dean spoke again.

"Reckon she's seeing him?"

"I doubt it." Sam didn't need to ask who _"him"_ was. "Not your business though."

"Not my..."

Sam finally looked up and pinned his brother with a glare.

"No. It's not. _You're_ not her boyfriend."

Dean ground his teeth.

"I know that." He grumbled.

"Then what's the problem?" Sam smirked. "Listen, why don't you go out and grab us some food?"

Seeing as he had nothing better to do, Dean agreed. Sam sighed and looked back at his laptop. There were a lot of things he could have told Dean. He could have told him about the letters Hermione received by owl, which were read and then angrily banished to the bin. Sam had become all to adapt at recognising the untidy scrawl across the parchment. He could have told him about the long conversations he and Hermione had about balancing her home life and her work. He could have told him any number of things. But he didn't. Hermione scared the shit out of him.

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The tattoo on his back began to heat up, prickles crawling across his skin. Thirty seconds later, while he was trying to bend his arm enough to scratch the offending area, Hermione stepped out of thin air. She dropped the anti-possession charm back around her neck, an action Sam took to mean she'd been using it as a portkey and sighed. She looked frazzled and tired, her hair coming loose from her braid. She dumped her bag, phone and wand onto the table, stripped off her jacket and sat down on a chair to remove her boots.

"I'm not here." She told him, without looking at him.

Sam frowned.

"I thought you weren't finished until tomorrow." He asked carefully.

Hermione left her boots on the floor and flopped on a bed, which was, Sam knew without looking, probably Dean's.

"I'm not." She announced, wriggling under the covers. "Needed to sleep. I'll just get people hurt like this."

He didn't bother to disagree with that, too relieved to see her in one piece. Neither Winchester liked it when of their number went off on their own. Maybe Bobby was right about that co-dependency thing. Sam shook that thought away, watching her fluff up Dean's pillow.

"Doesn't it worry you that you can only sleep next to my brother?" He queried.

"Yes." Came the muffled response from under the pillow. "I try not to think about it."

Sam settled back behind his laptop.

"Fine." He muttered and texted Dean to bring back more food.

Dean arrived ten minutes later, barrelling through the door with an arm load of bags.

"How come we needed..." He stopped short, spying the dragon hide boots lying in a heap on the floor. Wordlessly, Sam pointed to Dean's bed with his pen and didn't look up from his research.

"Is she all right?" He asked quietly as he dropped the bags onto the table.

"Yeah. She's just come home to sleep." Sam wasn't truly paying attention, so he didn't notice the look of longing his word choice provoked. Dean sighed heavily and began setting out food for his brother.

A shrill ringing interrupted their silent meal and Sam picked up the phone, check who it belonged to, and lobbed it at Dean. Bleary eyed, Hermione emerged from the covers just as Dean pressed the mobile into her hand. She answered it, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Granger." She mumbled.

"...Hey Harry..."

She eyed the glasses of water on the table with interest and, rolling his eyes, Dean passed her one. Hermione took a large swallow and choked.

"What do you mean he wants to talk to me? Harry, don't you...Hello Ron." Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, expression belaying the bright tone of her voice. "I'm fine, yes...America...Working...Because it's my job." Her voice began to gain an edge of irritation. "Ron, we've talk about this before...of course I got your letters..." Her jaw clenched and she got up from the bed to pace across the floor. Sam and Dean watched her avidly, as she became more and more agitated. With the slight exception of Jessica, the brothers had never seen this side of domesticity up close before. It was somewhat fascinating. "Why didn't I reply? Because you were talking nonsense, Ronald!" Sam winced. "My work _is_ important, I don't care if you think I'm just some paper pusher...I'm too tired to deal with this rubbish." She hissed. "Don't you even think of dragging Harry in the middle of our fight again, got it?" Hermione hung up and stood poised in the middle of the room, staring at nothing, phone clenched in her left hand. Sam winced as a wave of static flickered across his laptop. Latent magic wasn't something Hermione had ever explained to him, but he'd learned enough to attribute the frequent electronic malfunctions to Hermione's fluctuating emotions.

In her right hand the phone cracked and died.

That wasn't the first time.

"Bloody hell." Hermione whispered, looking down at the now defunct piece of technology. Sam chuckled and rummaged in his laptop bag, tossing her a spare.

"See if the sim card still works." He ordered, well used to this.

"Trouble in paradise?" Dean taunted.

Hermione glared at him, sparks flying from her hair.

"Don't you dare, Dean Winchester!" She hissed. Hermione gathered up her things, lacing her boots with magic as she shrugged her leather jacket on. "I need to get back to work. I'll see you tomorrow." With a tap of her wand and a whispered _"portus_" Hermione vanished.

"Smooth." Sam teased, smirking. "What happened to the guy who charmed his way through the entire cheerleading squad?"

Dean flushed.

"Shut up, Sammy."

* * *

Hermione didn't return until the next day. She was soaking wet and shivering, but they'd been at a truck stop when she'd found them, so she'd had little choice but to dry her clothes with magic and slid into the back seat of the Impala.

"What happened?" Sam asked, watching her curiously.

"Water spirit didn't appreciate being told not to eat children. So she tried to drown me." Hermione pushed her sopping curls off her face. "I got her in the end. Told Harry the problem was solved and tracked you two back here." Any animosity from the day before seemed to have been forgotten.

"Why don't you dry your hair with magic?"

Hermione sighed, pulling her jacket closer about herself.

"Have you ever seen what a cat looks like if you blow dry its hair?"

Sam, who'd spent more hours on Youtube than he would _ever_ admit to his brother, nodded.

"It's like that. Magic does not mix well with my hair."

"You'll have to try that on Sammy sometime." Dean piped up, sending his brother an evil smile.

"Very funny." She shivered. "Can you turn the heat up, Dean? I'm freezing."

Somewhere in between the middle of nowhere and nowhere in particular, Hermione fell asleep, stretched out across the back seat. Sam, noticing her shivering, turned the heat up as far as it would go and listened to the distinctive rattle of Legos stuck in air vents.

"How come you never took them out?" He asked.

Dean shot his a strange look and shrugged.

"Everyone has scars." He told him, being unusually vague. "Even Baby."

For the next fifty miles, they drove on in silence until the slight change in the background noises caught his attention. Along side the rattling of the heater, there was a faint gargling noise.

"Pull over." Sam ordered.

Dean frowned at him, but did as he asked, trusting his brother's instincts. Sam held up a hand to silence him and they listened to the loud rattles of raindrops on the Impala. Eventually Sam picked out the noise...which was perfectly in time with Hermione's faint breathing.

"Shit." Sam whispered, fumbling with the door handle. He ducked out into the rain, unlocking the rear door and sliding onto the bench, lifting Hermione's head into his lap as he did so. Dean twisted around completely to watch, frowning.

"Hermione?" Sam asked gently, pushing her hair back from her face. She was curled under her leather jacket, arms wrapped around her knees. He rested a hand on her forehead and flinched. "She's burning up." He told his brother. "Wake up, 'Mione."

Hermione didn't stir and Sam pulled off his hoodie and draped it over her, tucking the sleeves around her. Dean passes him his jacket without being asked and Sam lifted her up to lay it on the seat, protecting her from the cold leather.

"What's wrong with her?"

"She said she almost drowned, didn't she?" Sam pointed out, rummaging through her bag. "I'm guessing hypothermia, cold, maybe a chest infection. You've seen how she's been chugging those potions recently. She's getting weaker, Dean."

"How can you find anything in there?" Dean asked, as he started the engine and set them back onto the road.

"It's all organised." Sam mumbled, pulling a tartan blanket from the depths of the beaded bag. He tucked it around her, hugging her close in an attempt to warm her up.

Dean drove on into the darkness as the storm increased around them, pelting the Impala with raindrops and high winds.

"We need to find somewhere to stop." Sam announced. "She's still not waking up."

"Dammit." Dean thumped the steering wheel. "The next place I see. I promise."

* * *

The motel was a darn sight nicer than the ones they usually patronised, and the prices were almost guaranteed to make Dean flinch, but one look at Hermione's fevered face was enough to decide it. Cursing, Dean grabbed the bags and his wallet, while Sam hoisted Hermione into his arms, blankets and all.

The rain thundered down around them as they sprinted across the car park, soaking them instantly. They received a few strange looks when they burst, sodden, into the foyer, but the brothers squared their shoulders and ignored them.

"Two queens." Dean ordered, tiredly brushing the water out of his eyes.

"Sure thing." The receptionist beamed at them, before his dark eyes shifted to look at Hermione, who was just visible under the blankets. "She all right?"

Sam grimaced, tightening his hold on her.

"Yeah." He promised. "Just got a cold."

That seemed to be the right thing to say because the key was handed over without further questioning.

Dean let out a low whistle at the room as Sam dropped Hermione onto a bed and began peeling back the sopping blankets.

"'Mione?" He asked. "You awake?" Luckily for Sam, her clothes were still dry enough to be left on and he pulled her boots from her feet. "Dean, can you get me my potion bag?" Sam murmured distractedly, tucking the duvet around the unconscious witch.

Dean rummaged through Sam's neatly packed backpack and eventually produced a cloth bag which clinked faintly.

"What is this?" He asked, passing it to Sam.

Sam smiled.

"First Aid Kit. 'Mione made it for me. Figured it'd be a good idea if I knew how to look after her." He rummaged in the bag and produced a red potion which shimmered faintly in its vial.

"Pepper-up." Dean realised, recognising it. Now Sam mentioned it, Dean could remember seeing several of those empty vials lying around various motel rooms.

"Mmm." Sam frowned. "Only problem is she needs to be awake to drink it. Son of a..." Sam settled on the other bed, grimacing. Dean reached out to try and shake the witch into consciousness when something...flickered. He drew his hand back sharply.

"Did you see that?"

"See what?"

Dean waited for a full minute before the flicker came again.

"What the hell?" He asked Sam. His brother sighed.

"It's her magic. 'Mione explained it to me in case she ever got hurt. Basically, she just runs out of energy if she's keeping a spell up for a long time."

"But she's asleep." Dean protested. "How the hell is she doing magic?"

Sam glanced her over, curious.

"Probably just a glamour charm. You know, like the one she uses to hide her scar..." Sam grimaced as the magic flickered again and he caught sight of the bite scar on her neck before it vanished from view. "Scars..." He added, sounding tired.

"How'd you know this stuff?"

Sam shrugged.

"She's always looking after us. I wanted to know how to take care of her. So I know what potions to use and she gave me a number we can call if she gets really sick. I'm gonna find some coffee. I think I saw a buffet or something."

Dean waved his brother off, promising to administer the potion if she woke. He sat on the end of Sam's bed, resting his elbows on his knees to watch her.

"Hey Cas..." He prayed, not expecting an answer. "Listen 'Mione's still not great. Think you could..."

Hermione's charm flickered a final time and faded. A flash of red caught Dean's eye and he pulled her arm from beneath the covers to stare at her hand. He knew runes or sidgils when he saw them and the marks carved into Hermione's skin were definitely runes. In fact...Hermione pulled her arm away from him as she shifted, eyes opening briefly.

"...Dean?"

Dean shook himself, already reaching for the vial.

"Hey Princess."

Her brown eyes frown ever so slightly.

"Where...?"

"Some motel. I need you to drink this okay?" Carefully, Dean rested his thumb on her lower lip, pulling her mouth open gently. "Swallow." He ordered, dribbling the potion in slowly.

Hermione coughed, but the red flush to her skin began to fade as she sipped, swallowing the potion in small mouthfuls. He waited until she'd had the last drop before he pulled back, letting her sit up. Hermione shifted, lifting her hand to push her hair out of her eyes. She froze as the runes caught her eye and Dean waited in silence to see what she'd say. She tugged her sleeves over her hand and didn't look at him.

"Where's my wand?" She rasped, voice raw.

Dean clenched his teeth and pulled the piece of wood out from his inner pocket.

"Here...Where do you think you're going?"

Hermione coughed.

"Bathroom." She staggered as she found her feet, stumbling towards the door. She caught herself on the frame. "'cuse me."

Dean stared at the door as it locked behind her. On the one hand, he was angry, on the other he was scared...and yeah. Still angry.

He hated it when people kept things from him. Hated it. No good ever came of it, his mind reminded him. Sam, Dad...the angels. Every time, _someone_ got hurt. But, at the same time he knew he couldn't push. Hermione was worryingly like his brother...and _now_ he felt sick. But the point was, she was so stubborn she'd leave rather than tell him what was going on.

The door to the bathroom clicked open and Hermione leaned against the frame, looking paler than she had going in. The marks have vanished and Dean's gut clenched knowing the reason she was paler was because she was covering up something she didn't want him to see with magic. She stiffened when she saw the anger that was undoubtedly obviously written all over his face.

"What's wrong?" She asked quietly.

Dean clenched his jaw and held out his hand.

"Nothin'. There's a buffet here. Let's get some food in you."

She stepped closer but didn't take his hand.

"What's wrong?" She repeated.

"Why are you here?" It wasn't the question Dean meant to ask, but it was the one he most wanted the answer too.

She frowned.

"You brought me here?" She offered, confused.

"No. Why are you _here_? Helping. Hell, we've ruined your life, you're more fucked up now than you've ever been, and you just keep coming back? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Her expression turned stony.

"Quite a lot actually." She told him coldly, turning for the door.

"Seriously. Tell me?" Dean begged. "Is it just saving the world or the cars or the monsters? Why the _hell_ do you co..."

"I'm not." She told him seriously.

"Not what?"

"I'm not here to save the world."

She reached for the door handle and swayed as the familiar phrase ran through her head.

_Dean Winchester must be saved. _

"Dammit." Dean muttered under his breath before stepping forward and wrapping his arm around her waist to hold her up. "Lets just go find Sam."

* * *

If Sam noticed the tension between them, he didn't comment on it, too busy trying to drown himself in a large mug of coffee. Swearing, Dean dropped Hermione in a chair and marched off to get them some food.

"How're you, Sam?"

Sam glanced up and finally seemed to notice she was sitting there. His eyes narrowed and Hermione found herself on the receiving end of Sam's most ferocious glare.

"Oh, not you too." Hermione groaned and dropped her head into her hands. The magic was taking its toll and she had a pounding headache that put her in no mood for Sam's rubbish.

"Yeah, me too." Sam spat. "You planning on telling me what's got you so exhausted that your glamour charms started wearing off? Why are you wearing those things anyway? You told me they were dangerous."

They were dangerous. Hermione hadn't been lying. Long term exposure to glamour charms could have severe repercussions, but letting the brothers see the drawing board her body had become would be worse.

"Sam..." She begged, but he cut across her.

"I know Dean's too oblivious to see it, but there's something wrong with you. You're my best friend, I won't stay quiet like he does!"

"I wish." Hermione growled. "That your brother stayed quiet. I do. But I'm not talking about this." Dean sat down in the spare chair and passed her a plate. "_We're_ not talking about this!"

"Back me up!" Sam begged, turning to his brother. "She's..."

"Going to leave."

They turned back to her and flinched at the unexpected fire burning in her eyes.

"I don't want to do this without you, but I _will_ if you insist on forcing this. So shut up, forget about it and eat your bloody pie."

Sam gaped at his brother.

"Dean..."

"You heard the lady." For reasons Sam didn't understand, Dean was just as angry as the witch, but a lot more successful at hiding it. "Eat your pie."

* * *

The rest of the meal was spent in complete silence and each was sufficiently focused on their own plates that they didn't notice the curious glances the other guests shot them. It was only when Hermione almost fell asleep in her pudding that Dean admitted defeat and pulled them both up from the table. Both brothers supported her back to their room since she was mad at both of them and too tired to walk properly. They were halfway back to their room, in a secluded corridor when Hermione stopped mid-step and shuddered.

"You all right?" Dean asked glancing down at her.

Her eyes fixed on a woman who was leaning against the wall, eating a bunch of grapes. Her skin was dark, but her eyes were a bright amber which seemed to flicker like torchlight. Ornamental daggers hung from her ears, brushing the bright shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Long black hair flowed wildly around a lush figure which was covered in what Sam could only term as...priestess chic.

Hermione paled and slipped from their grasp, her knees hitting the carpet with identical thumps. Sam dropped down to help her up, but Hermione shook her head resolutely, refusing to move.

A low throaty chuckle echoed around them.

"They always did call you bright." The woman taunted, pushing off from the wall. The amulets strung around her neck clicked faintly as she moved. "It's so nice to see manners in this day and age."

"Who are you?" Dean asked brashly. Hermione whimpered.

"Hectate." She whispered, sounding terrified.

An icy smile spread across the woman's face.

"I was furious, you know." She appeared to be talking to Hermione, although her eyes never left the brothers, both of whom were frozen to the spot. "That He had _dared _to involve one of my own in his ridiculous plots." Hectate let a long slow breath out threw her nose before she spoke again. "You were His first, I suppose, but _still_, you're mine now."

Hectate stepped forward, a silver anklet strung with bells ringing merrily as her bare feet sunk into the carpet. The woman stopped in front of Hermione, completely ignoring Sam and Dean.

"It's been a long while since I ran into one of my children. I believe they may be upset with me." She chuckled and Sam heard the barest murmur from Hermione which sounded like "_Can you blame them?_" The witch stiffened and Hectate smoothed her hand down the side of Hermione's face. "Hush, child. I won't hurt you. You've had a hard life, have you not?"

Hermione didn't reply, didn't even dare look the woman in the eye. The question seemed to be rhetorical anyway.

"You have served me well, thus far, and you remember your sacrifices. I know what you are attempting to do, girl." Hermione whimpered. "You seek to maintain the balance and for that you should be rewarded. Blessed be, Daughter of Emma." She pressed a kiss to Hermione's forehead and vanished. Sam caught Hermione as she fainted.

* * *

"What the hell was that?" Dean yelled, voice hoarse. He took Hermione from Sam's arms and laid her down on the bed for what seemed like the fifteenth time that week. He shoved his hands in his pockets to hide the tremble from his brother. Sam didn't need to know he was scared out of his wits.

"I don't know." Sam was pale and he slumped into a chair, dragging his hands through his hair.

"Goddess."

Their heads whipped around to stare at her as Hermione pushed herself upright. The colour was back in her cheeks and the rasp was gone from her voice...she looked, if not rested, then at least, better.

"What?" Sam managed.

"Hecate, goddess of magic, nature...etc." Hermione sighed.

"But..."

"And witchcraft." She added, frowning. "Always forget that one."

Sam gaped.

"So she's..._your_ goddess."

Hermione winced.

"Yes. Technically." She allowed. "But its not something we like talking about."

"Why not?" Dean demanded.

"She has a reputation for being..." She grimaced. "Temperamental. The old religions were driven out by the muggles and eventually witches just stopped practicing. She was not always the most kind of goddesses."

"Great." Dean sighed. "Why is she here?"

"I don't know. She hasn't been seen for three hundred years. It could be a coincidence."

They stared at her and her shoulders slumped.

"Of course. I forgot I was with you two."

"Ah, you love us." Dean quipped. Hermione smiled slightly and some of the tension in the room dissipated. "I'm gonna go take a look around. Something has to be going on here." He pulled his favourite gun from his duffel bag and Ruby's knife.

"We're coming with you." Hermione told him.

"No."

Sam and Hermione glared at him.

"Nuh uh. You," He pointed to her. "Fainted like an hour ago and you," He turned to Sam. "You're my little brother."

Sam frowned, confused.

"What does that have to do with anything..."

He sighed as the door slammed shut behind Dean and they heard the door lock.

Hermione frowned.

"He does know that there's nothing actually keeping us in this room, doesn't he?"

"I think it's symbolic?" Sam shrugged. "So, tell me about Hectate?"

She frowned at him as she pulled off her jacket, folding it neatly, before she toed off her boots.

"Why?"

"I'm interested."

"Fair enough." She settled herself in the chair. "First of all, the purebloods don't like to acknowledge her. They will though, they're not suicidal."

"Why not?"

Hermione shrugged.

"She reminds them that we're all mudbloods at heart." She rubbed at her forearm. "The beginning of the human race there were a collection of woman who were... "touched" by her magic, so to speak. Now, it might have taken generations for that spark, that tiny connection, to grow into something tangible, the story never really gives you a time line. The point is, those original few were human, just like everyone else."

"So when she said you were His?"

"She meant God, yes."

"So that's why the angels don't like you."

"Probably." She acknowledged. "As the blood lines grew and the magic spread, so too did her story. She's much older than the Greek pantheon she operates under. She claimed the witches for her own and we were. Are." She corrected.

Sam frowned.

"What about the wizards?"

"She doesn't...like them very much. Partially, because the original humans were all woman and partly because that spark manifested differently in wizards. They practice a different form of magic from witchcraft."

"But I thought no one practises witchcraft any more."

"I said much had been lost." Hermione corrected. "We still practice bits and pieces."

"How come you never told us?"

"Because Dean would have shot me in the head." Sam grimaced and admitted she had a point. "But it's small things mostly. Remembering sacrifices, remembering her."

"Sacrifices?"

"Not what you're thinking." Hermione assured him. "Rescuing dying plants, burning certain herbs, saying a prayer over a wasted potion. That sort of thing. I honestly thought it was some sort of superstition. We don't talk about it. Ever. The only reason I know is because Professor Sprout gathered all the muggleborn girls in our year the first week of school and explained it all. She showed us a picture and told us what to do if we ever ran into her."

"Kneel?" Sam teased.

Hermione's eyes darkened and she glared at him.

"If you ran into a goddess who was known for killing people on a whim, you'd kneel too."

"Sorry."

"Mm."

"So how old is she?"

"No one knows." Sam looked incredulous. "What? People who investigate tend to end up dead. _If _they're lucky."

"And if they're not?"

Hermione paled.

"The last attempt was by a group of Scottish wizards in 1707. They tried to bind her power to them for...well it doesn't matter now."

"What happened to them?"

Hermione shifted, looking uncomfortable.

"We're not sure. I looked up the case when I joined the Ministry. They have an almost unlimited library there. No one ever visits. It's such a shame."

"Hermione..."

"Sorry. Really, we don't know. We haven't found them yet." Sam gaped at her. "One of them turned up in Japan..."

"But I thought you didn't..."

"We, or the Ministry at the time, registered a temporal disturbance, in 1945."

"What had happened to him?"

"The disturbance was registered in Nagasaki," Hermione spoke over him, "Nagasaki, Japan, the 9th of August 1945." Sam's mouth formed a silent "o" and she nodded grimly. "He wasn't inside the wards. A lot of wizards and witches weren't. Scared the hell out of them from what I could understand. Still, they found his shadow. Surrounded by flowers. A city full of horrors and destruction and there were _flowers_." She shuddered.

"That's...one hell of a deity." Sam said at last.

Hermione shrugged.

"I've never been very sure she is a goddess."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know."

"Best guess?"

Hermione wrinkled her forehead.

"...Mother Nature...?" She offered.

Sam raised his eyebrows.

"Seriously?"

"Think about it. She's older than anything we know. The magical populations were well established by the time the Greek's came around. God created the earth after all. All of those wonders, is it so hard to believe that the planet he made could be sentient too?"

"But Michael and Lucifer and going to destroy the world! She can help us."

Hermione shook her head.

"She won't. She's done all she was willing to."

Sam frowned.

"How?"

"She healed me." Hermione pointed out, smiling.

* * *

Hermione excused herself to go to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She peeled her shirt off and twisted so she could see her back in the mirror. She hadn't told the brothe'rs but it wasn't just Hectate's healing magic which had caused her to faint. The goddess had done something to her and it had _hurt_.

There on her shoulders, standing out with the glossy pink shine of new burn scars, was a string of runes, spread out across her back. Many Hermione didn't recognise, but those she did were of binding and confinement. Hermione closed her eyes, feeling for the first time since she'd started this entire venture like there was hope.

"Thank you." She whispered, pressing her hands to the mirror.

* * *

"Elephant!"

Sam and Hermione stared at Dean as he slammed the door behind him, looking shocked.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Elephant! In one of the rooms."

His brother and the witch exchanged a long look.

"Was it a little elephant?" Sam asked, just managing not to smile.

"No, Sam. It was huge and then it was a guy!"

Sam nodded, grinning.

"Right. Sure."

"I'm being serious. There..." He broke off as someone knocked at the door.

"It's the middle of the night." Hermione murmured, reaching for her wand.

Dean opened the door slowly, one hand behind his back on the gun tucked in the waistband of his jeans.

"Shit." he whispered.

* * *

They'd been dragged by the same receptionist who'd checked them in, to a large conference room. Every seat was taken, bar one, filled by the most eclectic individuals Hermione had ever seen. The conversation stopped as the doors locked behind them.

The concierge smirked.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," He crowed. "Our guests of honour have arrived." He chuckled. "Thank you for coming. I never thought I'd see the like. So many gods under one roof..."

"Gods?" Sam hissed.

Hermione flinched.

"Look at their name tags." She murmured.

Mercury, Odin, Baldur, Kali, Zao Shen...every religion Hermione had ever heard of was represented here. They began to bicker amongst themselves and the hunters edged their way towards the door. Their exit was halted by the falling of the chandelier which shattered on the table.

A striking woman whose name tag read Kali, stood.

"We must fight." She announced, voice full of wrath. "The only thing the archangels will understand is violence..."

"We haven't even tried talking to them." Mercury interrupted.

Kali turned a horrifying glare on the man and he began to cough up blood.

"KALI!" Baldur scolded.

"Who asked you?" She demanded.

They were almost at the door when it burst open and the last person Hermione had expected burst into the room. Gabriel beamed at them all, golden eyes shining brightly. His wings were hidden from her, as they had been last time. Several deities groaned when they saw him.

"Gab..." Dean winced as Hermione and Sam stamped on his feet. Gabriel shot them a grateful look before turning a charming grin on his audience.

"Can't we all just get alone?" He pouted.

Baldur rolled his eyes.

"Loki. _What_ are you doing here?"

Gabriel grinned.

"Baldur. Long time no see. I guess my invitation got lost in the mail. Sam!" he winked at the taller hunter, who blushed. "Dean! Princess! Always the wrong time, wrong place with you three, ain't it?"

Hermione could hear Dean's teeth grinding, but through miracle or angelic influence, he stayed silent.

"Why are you here?" Odin demanded.

"To talk about the elephant in the room." A large black man started to stand, looking offended and Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Not you." Dean shot Hermione a triumphant look. "The Apocalypse. We can't stop it. But first things first, this lot are about to bolt." He turned to them. "How about you hole up somewhere for a bit?" He snapped his fingers and they vanished.

* * *

"I TOLD YOU SO!"

Hermione gave Dean an unimpressed look and began searching her bag for weapons.

"You want to go on about that now? Does anyone else want to know where the other guests went?"

Sam sighed.

"Why's Gabriel here?"

"Hell, I don't know." Dean reached for his own bag. "Why's he going by Loki anyway?"

"Call it my own little witness protection scheme." Gabriel rolled his eyes as they all pointed weapons at him. "Really? I just saved your backsides and _this _is the thanks I get?"

"Bite me." Dean snarked.

Gabriel grinned.

"You're not my type. Gigantor on the other hand..." He wiggled his eyebrows at Sam suggestively. Sam went pink and turned away.

"Why are you here?" The Archangel asked.

"Because it was the only place open." Dean grumbled.

"No. Not you. Her. Why are you still here?"

Hermione stared at him.

"Because I travel with them?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes.

"Noooo. Why haven't you run a mile? You're not seriously following Castiel's orders?"

"Why wouldn't I?" She told him coldly. "It's not as though anyone gave me an alternative."

"Ouch." Gabriel murmured sadly. "Well," He met her eyes. "Your funeral." Dean flinched.

"What do you mean you're saving us?" Sam questioned quietly.

"Those guys were gonna dust you. Or use you as bait."

"Hang on." Dean frowned. "I thought you wanted us to say yes."

"Well, yeah, but..." Gabriel flushed. "Not tonight."

"What's different?" Hermione asked.

"Me and...uh Kali. We had a thing. Ages ago but what can I say? I'm sentimental."

"Do they stand a chance against Lucifer?" Sam asked.

"Hell no!"

"What about Hectate?" Sam prompted. Hermione kicked him.

Gabriel looked shocked.

"What? She's _here?_"

Hermione nodded and the angel looked sick.

"That's...not gonna be pretty. So lets get going while you still have legs."

"Why can't we just apparate away?"

He grimaced.

"Kali, she's got you under a blood spell. You probably didn't even notice her collect it, if she got Mercury to help. I need to steal the blood away."

"How..." Sam choked. "I don't wanna know." He decided, grabbing his bag.

"What would happen if they found out you were an Archangel?" She asked.

Gabriel turned cold eyes on her.

"You're not that stupid."

"_Not me_" She mouthed, nodding towards Dean, who folded his arms and glowered triumphantly at the angel.

"I'll take away your voices." He threatened.

Dean grinned.

"We'll write it down."

"I'll cut off your hands."

"They people will say, "Hey, how come those guys don't have any hands?"" Dean smirked.

"Fine." Gabriel hissed. "You do what ever you want. I'm going after Kali."

* * *

The kitchens were like a scene from a horror movie. Or their lives, Sam couldn't decide which.

"Guess we know where the guests went." He murmured.

Hermione retched, looking repulsed as Dean fished an eyeball out of a pan of soup with a ladle.

"What now?" She asked, turning away from his brother.

Dean shrugged.

"See if we can get out of here?" He offered.

They were halfway to the door when Sam felt a hand wrap around his throat and begin choking him. From behind him came loud crashing sounds as Dean and Hermione were similarly ambushed.

* * *

Once again thrown into the conference room, they were shocked to see Gabriel tied to a chair. He shot them one desperate glance, before turning his attention back to Kali, who leaned over him.

"Well," She drawled. "the Trickster has tricked us all."

Hermione got a sinking feeling in her gut.

"Kali..." Gabriel warned.

She chuckled.

"You've got something I want." She reached into his jacket and pulled out a large angel blade, much larger than Castiel's or Simiel's. More of a short sword than a dagger. "The blade of the Archangel Gabriel."

The room burst into murmurs and Hermione sighed heavily. There went that plan.

"Okay. I got wings." Gabriel winced. "It's not a crime."

"You're a spy." Kali accused.

"I'm not! I'm being honest!" Several gods rolled their eyes. "For once. My brothers will kill. You don't stand a chance. Kali, you've got to listen to me. I've skipped forward. I know how this is gonna end."

"The arrogance of Westerners." Kali sneered. "You think you can just rip the planet apart. We were here first. If anyone gets to end this world, it'll be me." Her voice softened for a second. "I'm sorry." She whispered and stabbed him. Grace burned as Gabriel died, the flash of light, burning at Hermione's eyes.

The gods started bickering again and Hermione tugged on Dean's sleeve.

"No wings." She hissed.

Dean looked and sure enough, Gabriel's corpse lacked the soot stained wings of a dead angel.

"Oh, come on." He complained. "Right. Listen up." The gods stared at him. "You lot want Lucifer? Me and Sam can get him here."

"Why would you help us?" Baldur asked suspiciously.

"We don't want to die!" Dean snapped. "You lot are the most powerful things I've ever come across. If anyone can kill him, it's you."

* * *

Gabriel sighed, leaning against a wall.

"You're here for her, aren't you?"

She nodded.

"I have my interests to protect. She is powerful. Strong enough to do what must be done."

"You know I don't like Dad's plan any more than you do."

"Then change it." She hissed.

"But..."

"You're the rebel, are you not? Who says there are any rules any more?"

"I'm gonna regret this." Gabriel groaned.

* * *

"You ready?" Dean asked.

Hermione stared at him.

"As I'll ever be." She murmured. Hermione moved into the shadows, drawing her wand.

"So now you'll summon Lucifer?" Kali demanded of Sam.

He shrugged, looking sheepish.

"Well, yeah. First you need to get some stuff off my ribs."

"Breaking them would be easier." She hissed.

The lights began to flicker and they looked up.

"What's happening?" Someone called from the back of the room.

Sam and Hermione shivered.

"It's him." Sam whispered. "Someone told him where we were."

"How?"

"Does it matter?" Dean yelped. Hermione held up the vials of blood she'd summoned from Kali, before smashing them on the ground. "Let's go!"

The door swung open and the hunters froze in their tracks. Lucifer's vessel had gone down hill since the last time they saw him and large patches of skin had flaked off.

"Nice to see you boys again." He greeted. "Pagans." He added to the rest of them.

Hermione caught a flash of lamp like eyes before Hectate vanished, leaving the room much colder than it had been before.

"Well, she's got some sense." The Archangel was covered in blood and bits of flesh, which explained where some of the other gods had gone.

"You think you own the planet?" Baldur snapped, stepping forwards as the hunters moved to the back of the room.

"Baldur, don't." Kali warned.

"What gives you the right?" He continued, headless of the warnings. Lucifer smirked.

"No one. We take it."

Hermione turned away so she didn't have to watch Baldur's heart being ripped from his chest. There was a roar of flames as Kali set her own arms alight and began hurling fireballs as Lucifer, who merely stood there, looking slightly amused.

"You okay?" Sam asked.

"Not really."

All three of them jumped and turned to look at Gabriel, who'd materialised beside them.

"Better late than never." He murmured, a weak smile on his face. He shoved a DVD case into Dean's hand. "Guard this with your life." He got to his feet and stepped around the large pieces of overturned furniture. "Hey, Lucy. I'm home."

Lucifer beamed and held his arms open to hug his brother. For the first time Hermione could see Gabriel's wings, three sets of golden shining feathers.

"Not this time, bro." He helped Kali to her feet. "Guys get her out of here. That means _now, _witch."

Hermione nodded and grabbed Kali's arm, disapparating to the car park.

"You're one of hers aren't you?" The goddess sneered.

Hermione ignored that.

"Stay here." She ordered. She went back in through the front door, unwilling to appear in the middle of an archangel fight. Sam and Dean met her halfway and just grabbed her arms, hauling her with them as they ran out of the hotel.

"What happening?"

"We need to go." Dean barked. "Get in the car, Kali."

They didn't get far enough away. The shock waves cracked the back window and Dean swore. Kali vanished instantly and Hermione relaxed in the back seat.

"What happened?" She repeated. Sam and Dean shared a long look.

"He picked a side." Sam told her eventually.

* * *

Gabriel's last message, hidden in a porn DVD. The only way to open the Cage was with the four Horsemen's rings. They already had two.

It was the best news they'd heard all year.

* * *

Hermione stared around the shattered remains of the Elysian Fields. It looked as though a bomb had gone off. Great holes were rent in the ceiling and walls, ash covered almost everything and shattered furniture littered the ground. Glass crunched under her boots as she stepped through the room.  
Gabriel's body was long gone but the imprints from his three massive sets of wings remained. She traced one with her foot.

"Hello Gabriel." Hermione muttered, not bothering to raise her voice. "Don't worry. I won't tell. They wouldn't believe me anyway and I can't say I don't understand your reasons." She paused. "When an angel dies...it leaves a stain on the world. I know, I've felt it." Her hand went to Simiel, strapped to her side. "I've caused it. No angel has ever died in this place and certainly no Archangel. If we survive this," she coughed, "Correction. If _they_ survive this, look them up. Sam's going to need a friend. Lucifer is in his head, disturbing his dreams. If you could do anything to help with that, I would be grateful." She paused at the exit. "I've been teaching Sam to make ice cream." She added thoughtfully. "He's rather good at it."

She smirked when she appeared next to the Impala and let herself back into the motel room. Sam and Dean were still sleeping, so she removed her jacket and curled up on the space next to Dean.

"'Mione?" He mumbled, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"I'm fine." She promised.

He nodded and went back to sleep, leaving Hermione to think over her actions.

That would do it, she decided.

* * *

**_A/N_**

**_Thank you for all your kind words and thoughts. I'm sorry this took so long, but it's been a busy week. _**

**_You guys are awesome. Thank you for understand the changes in my updating schedule. I'll try and keep it at a week maximum. _**

**_Still, please let me know what you think,_**

**_Hood. _**


	20. Conflicting Agendas

"I still don't understand why I can't come with you?"

Sam watched with some amusement as his brother's eyes flickered towards the witch, a slight frown crossing his face as he tightened his tie. Hermione frowned and stepped forward to straighten it, apparently oblivious to the pink tinge that appeared on Dean's face. His brother cleared his throat and moved away from her. Hermione picked up book and began to leaf through it.

"Because a week ago you had a freakin' chest infection. I don't care what that pagan weirdo did to you..."

"_Don't_ call her that." Hermione growled, any pretense at good humour abandoned.

"But there is no way I'm taking you into the middle of Pestilence's infection zone. Got it?"

She flung her book down angrily.

"Don't you think you can order me!" She snapped, hair sparking with static and magic.

Dean whirled to face her, green eyes bright with anger and worry.

"Oh, no. I forgot. You only take orders from fucking angels!" He bellowed.

Sam's breath caught in his throat as Hermione froze. Dean glared down at her and if Sam hadn't seen her move he wouldn't have believed it.

The tip of Hermione's wand pressed deep into the flesh of Dean's neck and his brother swallowed nervously, eyes locked with the witch's.

"What did you say?" Hermione hissed.

"You heard me." Dean stepped closer, forcing her to pull her wand back slightly. "So, you gonna use that thing or are you gonna back off, princess?"

"We need to go." Sam pointed out quietly, breaking through the deadly staring contest. "And three looks a lot more suspicious than two when it comes to Fed's stuff. You know that."

His words got him a look of betrayal and triumph, respectively, but Hermione pulled back completely, holding her wand loosely by her side.

"Call me if you need something." She murmured, still watching Dean with dark eyes.

Sam hugged her before tugging his brother out the door.

"Keep safe." He called as the door shut.

Scenes like that weren't unusual nowadays. Bobby had been running them ragged, chasing after the third horsemen and Dean's stubbornness clashed spectacularly with Hermione's temper. Whatever Hectate had done to her, and Sam wasn't sure what exactly because Hermione refused to talk about it, seemed to have supercharged the witch. Where as before, Hermione's presence registered as a faint tingle in the air that only the most sensitive of hunters could really pick up on, now it was like sharing a room with a storm cloud. A whirling nexus of static energy which frizzed up her hair and raised her temper. She hardly slept, so pent up on energy that she spent most nights flicking through books as she perched on the end of Dean's bed. It was driving his brother up the wall, but Sam had a sneaking suspicion that was due more to not waking up with her in his arms. Not that he'd admit that though.

Sam settled with a sigh into the passenger seat, preparing himself for another visit to another hospital suffering from another bout of swine flu.

* * *

Hermione waited until she heard Baby's distinctive engine note leaving the parking lot. Her free hand went to the small worship stone hanging in the tangle of pendants around her neck. Pomona Sprout had been shocked to hear from Hermione and even more so to hear what she was asking for, but she handing the stone over without question. If Hectate was the only one of her side, then Hermione wasn't going to shirk on her duties.

A part of Hermione's more conservative upbringing, the part which consisted of primary school nativity plays and thrice annual church services, because her mother had been sure her grandmother was watching them disapprovingly from heaven, balked at the idea of pagan worship. At which point Hermione logically reminded herself that she was a witch and really this sort of spiritual crisis was moot when you considered one of her closest friends was an angel.

Speaking of which...

"They've gone, Cas." Hermione murmured.

The seraph appeared in the corner, frowning darkly.

"You are unstable." He announced, stepping towards her.

"I'm aware." Hermione snapped, before she sighed, making a conscious effort to control her temper. The extra magic rattling around her body made her twitchy and grumpy and the long hours spent in a motel room were not helping. "I'm ready."

The last rune was needed. Sealing runes, held a string together. They didn't have to be relevant to the spell necessarily, more so to the intention of the caster. Hermione hadn't so much chosen this rune as felt it call out to her. _Familie _was a small etching, usually only used in a basic household warding or some blood rituals and wedding rites. But Hermione hadn't been able to get the rune out of her head after she spotted it on the page and so had decided that something was guiding her towards it. Castiel had advised her to go with her instincts.

"There will no going back from this." The angel in question warned.

She stared at him.

"That warning would have been more relevant a year ago." She snapped, settling herself on a chair. Castiel crouched next to her, angel blade wielded deftly in his right hand.

She held herself utterly still as he carved, unwilling to put him off his work. One tear escaped and wound down the side of her face, dropping onto her lap and soaking into the denim, mixing blood with salt water.

"There." Castiel leaned back and stared at her. "And you're sure this will work?"

Hermione rolled her head around her neck, as the unsettling feeling of unfinished magic that had been hanging around her since the process had begun, dissipated.

"That's it." She whispered.

The angel sighed heavily, rubbing at Jimmy's stubble.

"I do not like this."

Hermione hummed and ignored him.

"This is not right."

"Castiel..." She begged.

The angel clenched his jaw and stood.

"I must go." He announced and vanished.

"Well, that's just wonderful." Hermione muttered.

* * *

"He was there." Sam told her, as they packed up the motel room. "I'm sure of it. But...he's not there now. Doesn't make any sense."

"Mm. Well, I suppose we'll just have to call Bobby and tell him we found nothing. Again. Of course, if your moron of a brother would just let me go with you..."

Sam groaned.

"Oh, come on. The two of you are killing me."

"Not funny." Hermione snapped.

"Shut up. The tension between you two in unbelievable. I'm seriously worried what'll happen if I leave you alone together."

"Oh, don't be silly. I won't kill him." Hermione frowned as Sam rolled his eyes and waved one hand over his head theatrically. "What? He's being an arse."

"He's Dean."

"His name is _not_ an excuse."

Sam grabbed the bags.

"Let's just get out of here." He grumbled, heading for the Impala.

* * *

Two hours later, Dean nearly crashed the car.

Hermione pulled the angel blade from the upholstery, wincing at the large hole left behind.

"He's gone." She muttered, shaking slightly.

"Fancy a chat?" Came the irritatingly nasal voice from outside the window. The hunters stared at Crowley, who winced. "You're upset. I get it...but can't we talk rationally about this?"

Hermione didn't bother to use the door, apparating straight outside, wand raised.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean demanded as he got out of the car, watching the demon back away from the furious witch.

"I needed to talk to you!" The demon glared at them reproachfully. "Can't I just catch up with friends?" He pouted.

"You lied to us!" Sam snapped. "You wanna talk after sending us on that _suicide_ run?" He drew Ruby's knife advancing on Crowley.

"We lost people on that trip!" Dean snapped, standing between the two hunters. "Good people."

The street light that had been casting them all in yellow light shattered as Hermione's thoughts turned back to Jo and Dean felt the hairs on his neck rise. He was sure she hadn't always been this powerful.

"Hey, Granger." Crowley turned to Hermione. "Call off your attack dogs, would you? I've got something important to say."

Hermione lowered her wand slightly, but made no indication for Sam to do the same.

"About what?"

"We're still in this together." The demon told her, eyes wide in feigned innocence. "Us against Lucifer. Look, I didn't know the Colt wouldn't work. Honest!"

"Honest?" Hermione snorted. "You?"

"YES!" Crowley threw up his hands, dodging Sam's attempt to stab him in the back. "I'll talk to Miss Granger then, seeing as she's the only one with some sense. Lucifer knows I gave you the Colt, his demons have been chasing me for weeks! They burned down my house!" He added when she remained impassive. "They ate my tailor!"

"Oh, boo, freakin' hoo." Dean snapped. "We don't care!"

"Come on," Hermione murmured, stepping back. "We need to get going."

"I can help you!" He called as they got back into the car.

"Ignore him." Sam grumbled, already folding his long legs into the front seat.

"I can get you the Horsemen!" Hermione froze, one hand resting on the Impala's door. Dean met her eyes over the roof and he sighed.

"Yeah, right." He snapped, refusing to look at the demon.

"I know you want the rings." Crowley tempted. "I can get you them. But you need to come with me."

Hermione grimaced.

"He's not sitting next to me." She told Dean seriously.

A slight smirk crossed Dean's face and he grinned at her cheekily.

"You wanna come with us," He turned to the demon, hiding his smile. "There's a condition." He crossed to the boot and lifted the lid. "I'm sure as hell not risking my baby's leather for you."

* * *

A very disgruntled demon allowed himself to be lifted from the boot of the Impala, whilst Hermione stared up at the ramshackle house.

"This is a bit of a step down for you, isn't it?" Sam teased.

Crowley scowled.

"Laugh it up, Moose. The water damage alone..." He groused, leading them through the front door. A fire lit in the fireplace with one lazy gesture and Hermione drew her wand, very much aware that the demon had the advantage here.

"My heart's bleeding." Dean told him straight faced. "How do you know about the rings?"

"That's the problem with you Winchesters." Crowley rolled his eyes. "No people skills. Now, Miss Granger here..."

"Isn't up for discussion." Dean barked, stepping between them. Hermione shot Sam a confused look which Sam returned with a roll of his eyes. "So, tell me how you know about the rings."

"And they say demons are possessive." Crowley sighed. "Well, I've been keeping a close eye on you."

"You mean spying." Hermione snapped, temper sparking. "What did you do?"

"A simple cursed coin. Nothing important." Crowley grinned. "Enough to keep up with what you're talking about. And, by the way Squirrel, have you thought about confessing to some of the things you and Moose talk about when she's away?" Dean's expression bordered on murderous and Crowley backed off, raising his hands. "Moving swiftly on. I heard you were looking for the rings. I know where Pestilence is. I thought we could work something out between us."

"Where is he?" Sam demanded.

Crowley raised an eyebrow and Sam flinched.

"Patience. And technically, I don't know. But I do know the demon who does."

"Oh, wonderful." Hermione whispered under her breath, summing a handful of bluebell flames into her hand with a flick of her wand. Sam eyed her uneasily. Dean didn't even flinch.

"He's what you might call the Horsemen's stable boy." Crowley tilted his head to the side and watched the flames curiously. "Handles their personal needs and such..." He trailed off, apparently distracted. "Miss Granger have you ever considered a change of career? I can think of several uses for a woman of your caliber."

Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"Where is this demon?" She demanded.

Crowley blinked, turning away from them.

"Around. We bring him here and we offer him a deal."

"We?" Hermione asked doubtfully.

Crowley shrugged.

"When I say we, I mean myself and Squirrel."

"Oh, hell no!" Sam snapped. "We're going too!"

"Put it this way." The demon smiled, the blue glint of the flames reflecting in his eyes. "It's the two of us, or no one at all. Capiche?"

"Yeah, right." Sam turned to his brother. "Like that's gonna happen..."

* * *

"I'm gonna kill him." Sam snarled as they watched the Impala's tail lights vanish into the darkness. "How can he just go swanning off with a demon? I'm his brother."

Hermione gave him an arch look.

"You do realise what you just said?" She murmured, leading the way back into the derelict house.

Sam flushed.

"Yeah, fine. I did it first. But he's my big brother. He's supposed to be better than me."

"He's not supposed to be anything." She told him, scooping up the bluebell flames from the plate they'd been resting on and leading the way to the house's only chairs. "He'd doing what he thinks is right, Sam. You know that?"

"Since when were you the voice of reason?" Sam grumbled. "I thought you hated Dean at the moment."

"I don't hate him." She sighed, leaning back in the chair, unconcerned when it creaked ominously. "Usually, I quite like him. And I've always been the voice of reason. How you two managed without me, I'll never know. Pass the whiskey." She added.

Sam grimaced.

"Could you...stop that?" He asked, staring at the flames burning merrily in her palm.

"You've seen me burn Hellhounds alive and _this_ is what bothers you?"

"It's just weird."

"You're weird." Hermione countered, but extinguished the flames all the same. "Alcohol. Please."

"You didn't used to drink this much." Sam tried not to whine as he passed over the bottle.

Hermione glared at him over the rim.

"Blame your brother. Besides, if I drink it, there's less chance of Dean needing a new kidney at forty."

"True." Sam murmured. "You wanna call home?" He asked, pulling out his mobile. He dialed the number and put it on speaker.

"This had better be one of my kids." The grumpy voice answered.

Sam shared a grin with Hermione.

"Hey, Ellen. It's Sam."

"That muppet of a brother of yours, with you?"

Sam grimaced.

"No. He's...uh...out. 'Mione's here though."

"Hello." Hermione called quietly.

"You in one piece girl?"

"Yes, ma'am."

They spent twenty minutes on the phone and by the end Sam had all but forgotten he was angry at his brother.

"You know," He realised, settling next to Hermione. "I wouldn't have a family if it wasn't for you."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous. As long as you have Dean, you've got family."

* * *

**Keep Sam calm**

**DW**

* * *

Hermione frowned, rubbing her thumb over the screen of her mobile. Other than a slight flicker caused by the active glamour charms, the message didn't change.

Luckily, Sam was asleep, propped against the wall. Dean always said he could fall asleep anywhere. Came from growing up on the road, she guessed.

Hermione pocketed her phone and reached for her wand, following the tracking charm until she knew where to go.

The Impala screeched to a halt when Hermione appeared on the roadside and Hermione jumped into the front seat immediately.

"What on earth..." She muttered, staring at the bloody and hooded body lying on the back seat, Crowley looking worried next to it and Dean who looked like he'd gone six rounds with a sledgehammer.

"What happened?" She demanded, already resting the tip of her wand against Dean's face and murmuring the appropriate charms. Dean held still until the magic was finished.

"Thanks." He muttered, putting the car in gear and heading off down the road. "Shouldn't you be with Sam?"

"He's asleep." She told him. "Who's under the bag?"

Dean winced.

"An old friend of Sam's. Apparently."

"That's why you wanted me to keep him calm?"

Crowley grimaced.

"This is a bad idea. Moose is going to fly off the handle when he sees him and that is not something I want to deal with."

"Shut up." Dean ordered as he turned into a side road leading to Crowley's house. "I need you to keep Sam back, okay?"

Hermione nodded, still confused. When they arrived at the house, Hermione grabbed Sam's arm, tugging him out of the way to let Dean drag the demon past, Crowley bringing up the rear at a sedate pace.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, as Hermione linked fingers with him, still holding him back.

"We got the demon." Dean replied gruffly, moving the body into the other room.

"For the record," Crowley called. "I'm against this. But go on, let's let Sam here ruin our last hope at stopping the end of the world."

Sam frowned and Hermione looked away, allowing him to pull her after Dean.

His brother grimaced at the sight of them holding hands, but nodded approvingly when he saw her wand was out. Carefully, he finished tying the demon to chair and allowed Hermione to draw the demon traps with magic.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, frowning at his brother. Dean sighed heavily.

"I need you to stay focused." Dean stepped forward, eyes flickering towards their linked hands again before he turned back to Sam. "Can you do that?"

"Yeah, of course. Dean... I don't understand. What's going on?"

"Sam?"

Hermione and Dean froze as Sam stared at the demon, head still covered with the bloody bag.

"Sam, is that you?"

Dean sighed and pulled the hood off.

"Brady?" Sam spluttered, stepping forwards. Hermione tugged him backwards. "But..."

The demon smirked. He was an attractive man, dressed in what had probably been a business suit before someone covered it in blood. He looked to be around Sam's age too, with blond hair and a smirking mouth that set Hermione's teeth on edge.

"Brady hasn't been Brady for years." He taunted, as Sam's face went slack. "Not since...ooh. Middle of our second year?"

Sam paled.

"What?"

Brady grinned.

"That's right! You had a devil on your shoulder, even back then. Now, why don't you just let it all sink in..."

He smirked as Sam swayed where he stood, looking bewildered and lost. Hermione tightened her grip on his hand.

"You introduced me to Jess!" Sam whispered. Dean and Hermione exchanged a horrified look, Dean already moving to intercept his brother.

"Bingo. Killed her too." The demon told the cheerfully. "You know she was so surprised to see me. Baking cookies if I remember and she..."

"_Silencio_" Hermione screamed waving her wand with her free hand as both she and Dean struggled to hold Sam back.

"HE KILLED HER!" Sam roared.

"Dammit, 'Mione." Dean snapped. "Get him outta here!"

Hermione disapparated, taking Sam with her to the top floor of the house. He almost flattened her as he tried to get through the doorway.

"_Protago!_" Sam rebounded off the blue shield and whirled to face her. Hermione flinched backwards. "You've got to calm down!"

"Calm down?" Sam bellowed. "He killed Jess. He murdered my girlfriend!"

"I know. I know." Hermione placated.

"I'm gonna kill him."

"No, you're not." Dean called from the other side of the barrier. He looked exhausted and angry, never a good combination when it came to Dean. "We need him. 'Mione, keep him in here until we're done, okay?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed, but she nodded, watching the furious hunter.

"Dean!" Sam shouted as his brother left. He turned back to her, frowning when she made no move to unseal the room. "Oh, come on. You can't actually agree with him?"

"On this?" Hermione nodded. "Yes. I do. We need that demon to tell us about the Horsemen's rings."

"Why? Because Crowley said so?"

"Because it's the best plan we've got!" Hermione snapped. She flinched as Sam knocked over a nearby table, causing it to splinter. "I understand, Sam. I do."

"How?" Sam yelled.

"You don't think I'd do anything to get my hands on the demons that killed my parents?" She asked him quietly, eyes dangerously bright. Sam winced.

"I'm sorry..."

"Forget it." She muttered. "I'm not letting you leave until Dean's got what he wants from...Brady." She sneered. "As soon as he's outlived his usefulness I'm sure you can have at him. Won't help though."

Sam frowned.

"Won't it?"

"Will it make Jessica any less dead?" She asked coldly. Sam paled and turned around so he was staring out of the window. "Thought not."

* * *

"Crowley's gone." Dean informed them, ten minutes later. "Brady won't talk so he's gone to find a demon who will."

Hermione glared at him dully over her knees as Sam paced the room.

"Wonderful." She drawled, earning herself an annoyed look from Dean.

"You two need anything?"

"Not at the present time." Hermione replied, cutting across what was probably going to be a demand for the demon's head, from Sam. "In fact, we're leaving." She got to her feet, tucking her beaded bag into the pocket of her leather jacket. "Call me if you need anything." She grabbed Sam's wrist and disapparated.

"What the hell?" Sam spluttered, blinking in the bright street lights.

Hermione dragged him wordlessly into the nearest diner and collapsed into one of the booths. Sam stared around, wondering if he was dreaming. He'd never get used to magic, he decided.

"Why are we here?" He asked, wind taken out of his sails.

Hermione glared at him.

"Because you were two minutes away from smashing the window and ripping Brady's throat out yourself. Coffee please." She added, talking to the waitress who appeared at her shoulder. Sam nodded and they were left in peace.

"Tell me about Jessica." Hermione ordered after they'd sat in an uncomfortable silence for several minutes.

Sam slumped.

"Why?" He whispered, heartbroken.

"Because I'm interested." And she was. The brothers didn't talk about Sam's life at college or about Sam's girlfriend. Other than the time Sam had been dreaming about her the topic was safely skirted around any time they got close to talking about it.

"We met at a party." He said at last. "Brady...introduced us. Said he knew someone who'd be perfect for me. And...she was. Smart and funny. Didn't take any crap from anyone."

"You loved her." Hermione stated.

Sam shrugged.

"Yeah. I did. I was going to ask her to marry me. Saving up for a ring and everything." He paused as the waitress handed them their coffees and sighed. "I was even gonna call up Dean and tell him. Guess I thought he'd be proud of me, or something stupid. I don't know."

"He would've been proud." She told him, gently.

"Doesn't matter now, does it?" The hunter muttered bitterly.

Hermione sighed in sympathy.

"I'm sorry you lost her."

"Not your fault. You would've been...what? Fifteen?"

"Something like that." She acknowledged, sipping her coffee.

"What about you?" Sam asked suddenly. "Did you love Ron?"

Hermione shrugged, not seeming to notice his use of the past tense.

"We got together when the war ended. It was safe and everyone just seemed to expect it. I loved him. Or I thought I did. We argued a lot. Still do. People just told me that it was passion and we were perfect for each other. I don't know why I thought that would change."

"You argue with Dean." Sam supplied. "Pretty much constantly, in fact."

Hermione waved that aside.

"That's different. Your brother has usually got ten different things on his shoulders at any one time. I don't think I've ever known him not to be stressed about something. And it's never malicious. Dean and I argue because we're tired or we think the other person is wrong. We don't fight because he thinks swearing is unladylike or that I don't cook enough." She waved a hand lazily. "Ron and I have been fighting since first year and poor Harry's always been stuck in the middle. It isn't new, at any rate."

"Why are you still with him?" Sam demanded, finally seeing a point to Dean's crush. "If you..."

"He's normal." Hermione blurted and then seemed to freeze, eyes widening almost comically.

Sam gaped at her.

"What?" He managed.

She groaned, rubbing at the bridge of her nose.

"I am aware how that sounds." She mumbled.

"It sounds pretty bitchy." Sam pointed out.

"I will not be lectured on bitchiness from_ you_." Sam scowled and she continued. "So much has changed in the last year...I'm not the same person I was before. I don't _live_ the same life. Can you honestly blame me for wanting to hold onto the last piece of normality I have?"

Sam's scowl deepened when he realised that he couldn't, actually, blame her.

"You know it'll only end badly, don't you?" He told her, silently cursing his best friend's stubbornness.

"I am well aware." She mumbled crossly. "Harry's getting married." She added sulkily.

"Isn't he a bit young?" Sam asked, curious.

"Not for wizards and Harry's always wanted a family. It seems right for him." Her phone buzzed and she answered it, frowning.

"Dean?" Her eyes widened and Sam fished a crumpled bank note out of his pocket to pay for the coffees. "We'll be right there."

* * *

"Hell hounds?" Sam demanded, mildly annoyed that Hermione stood resolutely between him and the demon.

"Yeah." Dean scowled, loading his shotgun with salt rounds. "Crowley led them here. And then the douche bag left us. Friggin' coward."

Sam reached for his own weapon.

"Can't you do that fire thing again?" He asked Hermione as she put away her wand and pulled her favourite shotgun from the depths of her bag.

"Not unless you want me to burn down the building with us inside. _Silencio_." She added, silencing the whining demon.

The first Hell hound through the window whimpered as all three of them emptied a round into where they thought it was. A splatter of black blood appeared on the floor. They all stepped back behind the salt lines, standing so they were facing each of the entrances.

A second growl echoed through the room and Hermione turned to stare at Crowley as he stepped from the shadows.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She snarled, scanning the room for some sign of the hound.

"I'm invested." The crossroads king quipped. "For now."

"Are you going to help?" Sam bitched.

"Well, yes." Crowley patted the air beside him. "I thought I'd bring in the cavalry. Mine's bigger." He added smugly. "Sic' 'em boy!"

* * *

"Did it help?" Hermione asked, quietly.

They were a hundred miles away from Crowley and the rotting corpse of Brady, parked by the side of a lake in the late spring sunlight. Sam and Hermione were leaning against a low wall, reading, as Dean searched the Impala. Brady had given them the information they'd needed and after Crowley had left, Dean had handed Ruby's knife to Sam.

"I know what you're gonna say." Sam replied roughly. "That revenge is bad, that I'm just giving into to something evil..."

Hermione gave him a slight, sad, smile.

"I was genuinely asking, Sam." She told him.

Sam's hazel eyes frowned at her for a moment before he looked away, turning back to the book balanced against his knees.

"Yeah." He whispered. "It did. You're right. It doesn't make Jess any less dead, but it's something. If I ever see her ghost I can tell her I got revenge for her. More than I've ever gotten for anyone else."

Hermione rubbed his shoulder with her free hand, listening to the faint cursing coming from the Impala.

"What's he looking for?" She asked, curious.

"Crowley's tracking device." Sam grinned. "I think he's planning to leave it in some hippy's car and force Crowley to listen to crap for a few months."

Hermione giggled, watching as Dean turned their home upside down.

"He knows I could use magic, doesn't he?" She murmured, rather enjoying the view. Dean was half bent over the back set, rummaging through pockets.

"I think it's therapeutic?" Sam offered, amused.

"AH HA!" Dean cracked his head on the door frame, but seemed not to care as he turned to show them a small shining coin in the palm of his hand. Looking worryingly gleeful, he spent five minute surveying the available cars in the car park, before slipping the coin inside the open window of a beat up camper van, whose rear bumper bore legends such as "_Make love, not peace_" and "_Legalize marijuana". _

"I'm just gonna check her over, make sure nothing else is wrong." He called, before returning to the car.

Sam and Hermione didn't pay him much mind, too interested in their reading. The sun climbed high in the sky, warming the concrete and their skin enough that Hermione stripped off her coat and jumper. Dean's shriek of _fury_ interrupted them both.

"Who the hell drew runes on my car!"

Hermione's eyes widened as Dean shimmied out from under the Impala's chassis.

"Hide me?" She yelped, dropping her book.

Dean got to his feet, staring around him, evidently looking for a culprit. His eyes narrowed when he spotted Hermione trying to hide behind Sam.

"Did you carve into my Baby?" Dean demanded as he stormed over to them. Sam shifted neatly aside so he wasn't trapped in the middle. Hermione winced, staring up at Dean.

"Er...yes?" She offered timidly.

Dean snarled before he caught sight of the lake over Hermione's shoulder and he grinned wolfishly. Hermione followed his gaze and paled.

"Don't you even think about it." She swore, stepping backwards. Unfortunately she didn't step back far enough because Dean reached out and hauled her over his shoulder in one easy movement. Sam snickered as Dean clambered over the wall, heading for the floating dock on the lake's edge. He dug out his phone as Hermione, for once completely unarmed, beat her fists off Dean's back.

"No, please." She begged, "I'm sorry, Dean. I'll do anything."

Dean stopped at the end of the pier and held her high over the water.

"Tempting, sweetheart. But beg all you want, my Baby needs revenge." Sam nearly fell over at the sound of his brother _teasing_ someone for the first time since Hell. Dean grinned brightly and Hermione swore.

"Don't you bloody dare!" She shrieked.

"Nuh uh. You're going in the water!"

"Oh, come on!" Hermione pleaded.

Dean smirked.

"Sorry!"

Hermione screamed as Dean literally launched her out onto the water, making a rather impressive arc before she met the cold water with a splash.

Sam snickered, making sure his phone was recording all of it as Hermione swam to the surface.

"You..._DICK!" _She screamed, hair plastered to her head.

Dean clutched his knees as he shook with laughter.

"Aw, I'm sorry princess. Did I get you all wet?" He joked.

Hermione had reached the end of the pier by this point and Sam was just close enough to see the smirk cross her face before she reached out and hooked one hand around Dean's knee and pulled. He caught the look of delighted surprise on Dean's face before he met the lake head first.

Sam, still smiling, stopped recording.

"And that's why I can't let her die." He said to himself as his brother and the witch splashed their way towards the shallows. He sighed as Dean looked down at Hermione and his brother's expression shifted into to something that was as close to love as Sam had ever seen on Dean's face. The two of them, dripping, made their way back up the back, arms wrapped around each other. "She's the only thing that makes you smile any more."

Sam hitched an amused but generally disapproving look onto his face as they neared him, both grinning brightly.

It was his job to fix this.

* * *

_**A/N**_

_**I'm sorry this has taken so long. College has been...exhausting. **_

_**Did you see the 200th? I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry or just dissolve.**_

_**Thanks to all my reviewers. You really help keep me motivated, which is quite hard at the moment. Christmas break is coming up so the updates will pick up then. Other wise...I've got five assessments due next week. So...eeek.**_

_**Please let me know what you think and any questions or queries would be vastly helpful.**_

_**Hood Out. **_


	21. Will You Join the Dance?

"What do you think?"

Bobby stared at Sam, his expression giving nothing away.

"Ellen's gonna kill me." He said at last. "But...I think if anyone can do it...it'd be you."

Sam nodded, heaving a great sigh.

"It's just...I can't let her get hurt. Not because of me. I started this. I should at least finish it, right?"

The older hunter grunted, pushing himself across the floor.

"How're you gonna tell Dean?"

"I'm not?" Sam offered, shrugging.

"Don't be an idgit." Bobby snapped. "You've gotta tell him. He'll go insane. You remember when he was dead, don't cha? What happened to you?"

Sam flushed an ugly red colour.

"Yeah, but Dean's got something I don't."

"He don't know it though." Bobby sighed. "You gotta tell him, kid. He won't take it well."

Sam sighed.

"Fine. But you're telling Ellen."

Bobby made a rude gesture and Sam smirked before heading off to find his brother.

* * *

"Hey, Mione, can I talk to you outside for a sec?" Sam had guessed that telling Hermione would be easier than telling Dean, and he wanted someone on his side when his brother flew off the handle.

Hermione glanced over the top of her book and smiled.

"Mmm, no."

Sam frowned, stepping into the room.

"Why not?"

Hermione was sitting against the headboard of her bed, Dean curled up asleep by her side. At some point the hunter had rolled over and wrapped his arms around her, cushioning his head on her stomach.

She blushed, waving one hand at her lap.

"I'm a bit...stuck."

Sam pushed away from the door frame and stood over her, grinning.

"Yeah, he's not letting go any time soon." He declared with the authority of someone who'd dealt with Dean for twenty seven years.

"I'd guessed." She said dryly. "Did you want something or..."

"It doesn't matter right now." Sam said and pretended he didn't see Dean wink at him when he paused in the doorway and looked back.

* * *

Hermione portkeyed everyone back from the Hospital. Castiel was in no condition to fly; going up against Pestilence had taken up what was left of his grace. It had been a sheer miracle that the angel had turned up in time. The hunters had, somewhat embarrassingly, walked straight into a trap they should have seen coming from a mile away. Pestilence had known they were coming, had had the entire hospital rigged up for their arrival. Hermione could still feel the tail end of his power clinging too her. The Horseman had them coughing up blood on the floor before they'd gotten anywhere close to him. Luckily he'd spent enough time monologuing for Castiel to stumble in and take a knife to the ancient entity's hand.

The angel was virtually unconscious, so Hermione and Ellen dragged him upstairs and, ignoring the mumbled Enochian protests, tucked him into one of the spare beds. Dean's bellow interrupted the quiet stillness and both women sighed before heading for the door.

"What do you mean, "'_Jump in the cage_"?"

* * *

The argument had been going on for two hours and showed no signs of stopping soon. Sam and Bobby stood, or sat, on one side of the room as Ellen and Dean shouted themselves hoarse. Hermione sat behind Bobby's desk, watching everything and saying nothing.

"Are you insane!" Dean yelled, for probably the seventh time. "How can you even think about doing something so..."

His phone rang and Dean floundered for a moment.

"You gonna answer that?" Sam asked, evidently sensing a way out.

Dean glared at him.

"This ain't over. What!" He snapped down the phone line. Dean frowned when Hermione spoke, holding her own mobile to her ear.

"Hi," She scowled over the desk. "This is Hermione. I'm just calling to ask if you're a bloody _moron_ or if you've truly forgotten that not only do we know Death's location but we have to get there before he murders all of Chicago?"

Dean hung up and stomped over to her.

"I ain't forgotten." He growled, eyeing her dangerously. Hermione stared back evenly but Sam could hear the faintest rattle of the ornaments on the shelf behind her. "Are you going to say something about this?"

"Like what?"

Dean waved a hand expressively in Sam's direction.

"His dumb ass plan. He'll get himself killed!"

Hermione examined her nails, apparently rather bored.

"Don't worry." She told him coolly. "I'm sure someone will step in at the right time. But if we could get back to the matter at hand, I believe we have a Horseman to catch."

Ellen's eyes narrowed and she glared at the younger woman who'd become more of a surrogate daughter than a fellow hunter. Hermione cut across her though, before she could raise her question.

"Where did you get this information again?" She demanded of Bobby. "I've been looking for weeks and turned up nought."

The oldest hunter flushed, looking rather sheepish.

"I...uh had some help."

"Oh, don't be so modest."

All at once no less than six weapons were drawn. The Winchester's never went unarmed these days.

Crowley lounged against the wall, surveying the room with a pleased smile.

"Don't attack on my account." He drawled.

"What's he talkin' about?" Ellen demanded, turning to face Bobby.

Bobby shifted, uncomfortable under the woman's glower.

"World's endin' anyway." He mumbled as Ellen's eyes began to narrow. "Seem's silly to get worked up over one little soul."

For a second there was silence and then several items shattered, Sam and Dean lowered their guns to yell at Bobby and Ellen slapped him. Hard.

"Did ya forget some idiot selling his soul is what got us into this mess in the first place?" She hissed as Bobby stared up at her in shock. Hermione got to her feet, rubbing one hand across Dean's shoulder in consolation as she passed him.

"The world's ending, woman!" Bobby seemed to gather his momentum and glared straight back. "What I'm supposed to do nothing to help? I'm broken, Ellen. I ain't gonna be no good in the end of days!"

Ellen just stared down at him, lips curled in a silent snarl.

"You sold your soul?" Sam repeated, dumbfounded.

"More like pawned it." Crowley broke in, dragging their attention back to him like an eager showman. "I fully intend to give it back."

"Do you now?" Hermione hissed, advancing on him. "Then give it back!"

"I will!" Crowley held up his hand. "I swear.

"Now!" Dean demanded.

"Did you kiss him?" Sam blurted, apparently still five minutes behind the rest of conversation.

Hermione blinked and then sighed.

"Shut up, Sam." She ordered.

"Just wondering." He defended, looking boyishly innocent.

"Did you?" Ellen demanded.

"NO!" Bobby yelled, scandalised.

Crowley held up a touch screen phone and Hermione tilted her head to squint at the picture.

"Is that...?" Dean managed, also squinting.

They all turned back to Bobby, who'd gone rather pink and was avoiding Ellen's gaze.

"Why'd you take a picture?" He hissed.

Crowley shrugged, pocketing his phone.

"Why'd you use tongue?"

"I think I just threw up." Sam muttered, looking disgusted.

"More to the point," Hermione swallowed, looking equally nauseous. "Why _won't_ you give him back his soul right now?"

"You lot are rather trigger happy when it comes to demons. Not you of course, Miss Granger. I heard you prefer rather lighter cannon fodder." Hermione baulked, one hand clenching reflexively around Simiel. "It's insurance. When this is all over, I'll return it."

"You son of a bitch." Ellen spat, advancing on the demon. "You're just using him to save your own skin!"

Crowley coughed, hiding a smirk poorly.

"Why is it the women of this family are so much more intelligent?" He asked rhetorically. "I'll leave you to argue for a bit." He vanished, leaving them staring at each other.

* * *

Ellen had dragged Hermione into the kitchen under the pretence of grabbing some food. And it was dragged because Hermione wasn't fooled for a second by Ellen's saccharine smile.

"You wanna tell me what that little comment of yours was about?" The huntress hissed.

Hermione glared mutinously at the floor.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She lied.

"Girl, I ain't those idiot boys out there. You tell me what's going on, right now!"

The witch sighed heavily.

"Someone's got to take the fall, Ellen." She murmured.

"Yeah, and it ain't gonna be you!" Hermione made to turn away but the older woman grabbed at her arm, pulling her around to face her. "No. You listen to me. I ain't losing my other daughter too. Not to this damn Apocalypse."

Hermione's eyes filled with unshed tears and Ellen sighed, hugging her.

"We'll fix this." She promised. Hermione didn't have the heart to correct her.

* * *

"Niveus Industries?" Crowley barked, holding up a newspaper. "Ringing any bells?"

Hermione frowned and summoned the paper, causing at least two people to flinch.

"That was Brady's company, wasn't it?" She murmured, scanning the print.

Crowley grinned.

"Top of the class, Miss Granger."

"I will stab you." Hermione added in a quiet under tone as she passed the paper to Dean.

"Country wide shipment of vaccine...?" Dean frowned. "What does this have to do with us?"

"Pestlience!" Sam realised, reading over Dean's shoulder. "He was spreading swine flu, remember?"

"And this is some kinda antidote?" Bobby scowled. "What kinda idgit would fall for that?"

Hermione muttered something that sounded like, "_...America...obviously..._" under her breath, which caused Dean to reach out and tug on her braid in retaliation.

"People are panicking." Sam grimaced. "They're willing to try anything. I'm guessing this isn't a cure?"

"You remember our old friend the Croatoan virus?" Crowley smirked. "I'd stake my soul that that's what's in there. Ready to ship out across the nation."

"You don't have a soul." Dean grumbled. "Okay, new plan. I'll go with Crowley to find Death. Sam, 'Mione and Cas, you go with Ellen. Deal with this."

Castiel, who'd been standing in a patch of shade in Bobby's yard, sulking, sighed.

"I won't be of any help." He muttered.

Everyone ignored him.

* * *

The cars were packed, Ellen, Sam and Cas, were taking the truck out to Niveus, packed with enough explosives to give the CIA a heart attack. Dean and Crowley were taking the Impala to Chicago.

"Here..." Sam held out Ruby's knife, hilt first. "Take this. You'll need it."

Crowley, seeking a chance to cause mischief, appeared next to them, holding out a small scythe.

"Take this instead."

"What is it?" Dean asked doubtfully.

"Death's own weapon." The demon grinned. "Only thing that will work against him."

Dean rolled his eyes, but accepted the weapon anyway.

"You take care," He ordered his brother. "You hear me?"

Sam sighed.

"I'll be fine, Dean."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Sammy. What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" Dean snapped, staring behind Sam. There was the distinctive sound of the Impala's trunk closing before Hermione strolled over.

"Going with you." She told him calmly.

"No way!" Dean protested.

Hermione folded her arms.

"Do you really think I'm going to let you go up against Death with only the _demon_ as back up?"

In the background, Crowley spluttered. Dean just sighed.

"Sam needs you."

"No, he doesn't."

"He really doesn't." Sam interjected. "I'm twenty-seven. I can blow up a warehouse on my own."

"Shut up, Sam." They both snapped. Sam groaned.

"I'll just follow you." She threatened.

Dean clenched his teeth.

"Fine. But Sam's a man down."

Crowley coughed.

"Speaking of which, are you just going to sit there like a lazy arse, Singer?"

Bobby glowered at the demon from his wheelchair.

"Very funny." He snapped.

Crowley sighed.

"You know you really should have been more specific about your contract. Left it a bit open-ended. I took the liberty of adding an extra clause."

Hermione gaped at the demon before flicking a diagnostic charm at Bobby. Whatever the spell told her, it was good news because she beamed.

"Well, who knew?" She murmured. "Up you get, Bobby."

They all stared at the hunter, who stared straight back.

"This ain't funny." Bobby grumbled.

Ellen, rolling her eyes, reached across and yanked Bobby up out of his chair. The wheelchair went scooting backwards and Bobby stumbled as his legs found purchase beneath him. For a second nobody moved and then his knees straightened and for the first time in months, Bobby Singer stood to his full height.

"You're welcome!" Crowley beamed, breaking the reverent silence. Ellen, never one for sentimentalism, punched Bobby in the shoulder.

"Ow!"

"Idgit." Ellen grumbled, adding another bag to the back of the truck, but smiling none the less.

"Thanks?" Bobby offered the demon, who waved the gratitude aside.

"This is heartwarming. Really. But we have to be going..." He made for the front passenger seat, only to have Dean catch his shoulder.

"She gets shotgun." He ordered as Hermione slipped passed them and into the front seat. "You can go in the back."

Crowley scowled.

"Honestly. Perform a minor miracle and what do you get to show for it?"

"An eternity in hell?" Dean offered, darkly.

* * *

"The UST in this car is unbearable." Crowley complained after an hour of driving.

Dean's ears went slightly pink, although Hermione just looked confused.

"Remind me to get you and Cas' to watch cable, sometime." Dean murmured, smiling at her.

Crowley mumbled something that sounded like, "_utterly besotted_." from the back seat which luckily Hermione missed.

"You want an angel of the Lord to watch bad TV?" Hermione grinned. "You're a bad influence, Winchester."

"Hey! I resent that." Dean smirked.

"No, you don't." Hermione assured him, cheerfully.

Crowley groaned loudly.

"That accent." Hermione asked suddenly. "Is it yours or the meatsuits?"

Crowley eyed her with something akin to approval.

"My own. And yours, Miss Granger?"

"London." She flushed slightly. "A bit south of you, I suppose."

Crowley laughed.

"Ah. It's nice to have someone with some sense of...originality to talk to, you know? These Yanks are so uncivilized."

Hermione's lips twitched slightly.

"I couldn't say." She murmured, diplomatically.

"Mm. Of course, it was different in my day."

"Where about in Scotland?" Hermione glanced over her shoulder. "Only I went to school there."

"Did you now?"

"Mm."

"Privately, I take it?"

Hermione smiled slightly, ignoring Dean's confused glances.

"You could say so, yes."

"Tiny village, Dufftown. Probably long since gone now, what with the Clearances and all."

"I know of it," Hermione murmured. "Still going strong today, I believe. Up near Elgin, isn't it?"

"That's the one."

Dean spent the next two hours listening to the most bizarre conversation he'd ever heard as Hermione and the King of the Crossroad's exchanged stories about living in some place Dean had never heard of and by the sounds of things never wanted to. Who the hell would live in a place where there were hoards of tiny flying vampires?

* * *

Ellen had vanished into the gas station to grab some supplies giving Sam the perfect opportunity to outline his plan to Castiel. The angel listened, his face giving nothing away before he nodded.

"It is possible," He said at last. "But there would be repercussions."

"I know I'd be stuck." Sam started but the angel shook his head.

"That is not what I was referring to. In order to make your body able to even host Lucifer, there would be necessary...preparations."

"Like..."

"Demon blood." Castiel told him bluntly. Both Sam and Bobby flinched. "Gallons."

"Why?"

"To keep you from exploding. Lucifer's current vessel is consuming vast quantities just to contain him and even that is not enough to stop the grace wearing through."

Sam frowned.

"But what about you and Jimmy?"

A self depreciating smile crossed his face.

"I am far less powerful than an Archangel, even when I still had my...mojo, as you put it. The sheer power of an Archangel is not supposed to be contained in a vessel for so long..." He shuddered. "I can only imagine what Michael is doing to force Adam's body to contain him."

"Adam?" Sam leaned forward. "My brother Adam?"

"You did realise he was being used as Michael's vessel.

Bobby grimaced.

"We were tryin' to think positively."

Castiel shook his head.

"Sam, you understand that if you fail...the results would be catastrophic."

The Winchester sighed, watching Ellen stride towards them across the tarmac.

"I've got to try, don't I?"

* * *

"This is the place?" Dean asked doubtfully.

Crowley glanced around, staring at something they couldn't see.

"This is where the reapers are. Hundreds of them. Bloody weirdos." He frowned. "I'll just go check that we're in the right place."

He vanished.

"What the hell was that all about?" Dean demanded.

Hermione chuckled.

"Testing out a theory. Something Bobby mentioned to me once. Thought it might be worth a try."

Dean frowned.

"Did you really go to school in Scotland?"

"Yep. Remind me to show you a picture sometime." She murmured, checking the magazine on her handgun. Dean snorted.

"I remember when you couldn't even handle that thing." He mused.

She reassembled the gun with quick practised moments.

"It's amazing what a bookworm can pick up." She frowned. "Something's wrong."

"Deaths not in there," Crowley announced, appearing in the back seat.

"What!"

The demon shrugged.

"I'm as surprised as you. All the reapers are just staring there but...no Death. Pity. Enjoy the slaughter." He vanished.

Dean and Hermione gaped at each other.

"What now?" Hermione asked, looking utterly bewildered for once. "If Chicago's due to be levelled by storms in twenty minutes..."

"We try and evacuate thousands of people in ten minutes?" Dean suggested looking at his watch.

"We need to get out of here."

"'Mione...!"

Hermione grabbed his arm.

"We need to leave! Now, Dean!"

* * *

They were passing through the centre of town when Crowley dropped in again.

"I found him," he announced as Dean jerked the car to a stop, one wheel clipping the sidewalk. He pointed across the road to a nondescript restaurant. "In there."

"Death's eating Italian?" Hermione asked doubtfully.

"Maybe he's eating Italians?" Dean suggested as they stepped out of the car. "You ready for this?"

Hermione snorted.

"No," She muttered, palming her wand. "Are you coming, Crowley?"

The demon didn't answer and Hermione didn't need to turn around to know he was long gone.

"You don't need to come." Dean murmured as they crossed the roads. The wind that was normal to Chicago picked up as the bad weather moved in, whipping Hermione's hair across her face, almost hiding her smile.

"If I can face Lucifer with you I can face Death." Her lips twitched. "Besides, we're old friends."

Dean didn't have time to question that because they reached the restaurant doors. They slipped inside silently and almost tripped over the corpse lying across the floor. Judging by the uniform she'd been a waitress. A pen rested several feet from her outstretched hand. The hunters exchanged a grimace, stepping over the body. The restaurant was busy...or it had been. The macabre visual featured men and women slumped into their food, their bodies the slight grey of the recently deceased. Only one person was moving.

From behind Death appeared to be a tall man of advancing age, with a bony quality to him which caused his suit to hang rather than fit. Hermione tightened her grip on her wand when she noticed her hands were shaking.

Death didn't have a presence. If she'd been forced to survey the power, she would have had better luck trying to sense Dean. It was the fact that the Horseman exuded nothing, not one single radiation of power or even life, that really scared her.

A loud clanging drew her away from her thoughts and Hermione stared at Dean who looked in horror at the scythe he'd apparently just dropped.

"Dean?" Hermione hissed, before everything went black and the floor rushed up to meet her.

* * *

"Hermione!" Dean yelled, lunging for her.

"She's all right."

Dean froze, two steps away from her.

"I could smell my sister on her from a mile away. I can _not _be bothered with the drama of killing her...prematurely. Sit down Mr Winchester."

Dean waited until he saw Hermione's chest rise before he obeyed, walking slowly over to the occupied table.

"Sit." Death encouraged, cutting his slice of pizza into small slices. Dry mouthed, Dean did as he was told, sitting nervously in the spare chair. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Can't say I'm thrilled about that," Dean whispered.

Death chewed quietly and watched him.

"Uh...I'm sorry, you said you have a sister?" Visions on a fifth horsemen ripped through Dean's mind.

"We all have our opposites," Death said, cryptically. "You're remarkably slow on the uptake...No, you may not speak." Dean's mouth snapped shut. "Honestly I haven't had this much trouble with a human since your mate," He spat the word. "went along with Mr Potter's insane plan." Death sighed and Dean told himself that he was just imagining that the exhale of air sounded like the rattle of bones.

"What did he do?" Dean asked in a rush.

"He sought to master Death. In the end he was unsuccessful. However, Lucifer was not."

Something clicked and Dean's mouth opened in a silent "o".

"Lucifer's got you on a chain," He realised. "So you want me to set you free?" His laughter died in his throat as Death glared at him.

"No. There is nothing a mere _human _could do to help me. But you can take the bullets out of Lucifer's gun. He has me destroying hundreds like some common demon." Death's lip curled. "It's pathetic. But I understand you want this?" He held up one slim, bony hand and Dean stared at the black ring adorning his fourth finger.

The hunter's mouth dried and he nodded soundlessly.

"I am inclined to give it to you."

"What?"

"_If_ you let what has to happen, happen." Death's gaze bored into Dean's eyes, giving the same stare as Castiel when Dean suspected he was looking at his soul. "Lucifer has to be returned to the cage, no matter the cost."

"That's the plan," The hunter assured him.

Death frowned.

"No. It wasn't. There has been a lot of meddling going on recently. I _dislike_ meddling." Dean flinched. "No, you are going to let your brother take that dive into the fiery pit. He's the one to stop Lucifer. So, do I have your word?"

Dean's breath caught in his throat and, unbidden, his thought turned to the witch lying collapsed on the floor, to the secrets she was keeping from him, to the millions who depended up him to get _this_ right.

"Yeah. You've got my word." He rasped and Death smiled.

"Very well. Would you like to know how it works?"

* * *

The wind had died as Dean carried Hermione out of the diner. She was just starting to wake up and Dean paused on the pavement to lower her to her feet, one arm wrapped around her as they crossed the road.

Two figures watched them go, standing like shadows in the window.

"I'm backing Sam." One said.

There was a soft snort.

"Of course you are. You always were so _rigid,_ brother." The other replied.

"Where as you seek to meddle in everything." The first retorted. "I assume you believe in the girl?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"They're human."

"That's the point." The second being sniffed. "Besides she is more than that."

"So is he."

"No matter who makes the fall...something must be done about Dean. He will be broken."

"He's human. It happens."

"The prophecy..."

"Doesn't relate to this and you know it." The being drew in a deep breath. "His heart will break but he'll let the pieces fall for he is a dead man with nothing to live for."

* * *

Hermione and Dean had pulled over at the side of the road, halfway between Chicago and Sioux Falls. They were sitting on the bonnet of the Impala enjoying the last rays of sunshine.

"So he said you have to let Sam do it?" Hermione murmured, staring at the horizon.

Dean turned Death's ring about in his fingers, noting how the metal never warmed up, no matter how it was handled.

"Yeah."

"You're okay with that?"

He glanced up from the ring, taking in her profile as she gazed off into the distance.

"No." Her lips twitched. "But...if I can't do this for him, I'll sure as hell give him the best damn rescue you've ever seen." This time she smiled fully and leaned back against the windscreen.

"You never give up do you? Never stop fighting." The setting sun bathed them in red light that Hermione thought was all too appropriate.

Dean shrugged.

"He's my brother, 'Mione. I don't know what I'd do without him. I don't want to know what I'd do without him. I'm...trash mostly. Sam's the good one."

"Don't say that." She rebuked softly.

"He is," Dean insisted.

Hermione scoffed quietly.

"He said the same thing about you, you know?" She reached out, pulling one of his hands away from the ring and lacing their fingers together. Dean stared at their joined hands, unaware of the grim look on her face. Hermione, so used to the casual touching between the brothers and herself, wasn't even aware she'd done anything noteworthy.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"When I...If something happens to me, will you do something for me?"

Dean moved away from her, unwilling to let her hand go but also unwilling to listen to her any more.

"I ain't listening to this." He warned.

"Dean...please." Hermione begged, turning to face him.

"No. You ain't getting hurt. Got it?" He glared at her ferociously. "I am not losing you too."

Brown eyes met green and Hermione shuddered. She couldn't bring herself to add to the grief that was already there.

"Fine." She whispered, letting him go.

* * *

"Where are the kids?" Ellen asked quietly as Bobby came down the stairs for the third time that night.

"Sam's upstairs asleep, Dean's tinkering in the yard. Thinks he found something wrong with that car of his."

"He's nervous." She murmured, as Bobby settled next to her on the sofa. "He's having a hard time getting his head around the idea of letting his_brother_ jump in the cage."

Bobby rolled his eyes.

"At least he's on board." He muttered darkly.

"Hermione?" Ellen wondered, ignoring his last comment.

"She got a call from some hunter back in England.

"Cas?"

"Ellen, you can't adopt an Angel of the Lord." Ellen gave him a look that said she was going to damn well try and Bobby sighed. "Last time I saw him, he was readin' some book 'Mione gave 'im and looking morose."

"You know she's plannin' somethin' don't you?" Ellen said suddenly.

"I ain't dumb if that's what you're asking."

"You sold your soul!" She snapped.

"I pawned it and yes I know. Whatever it is she's keepin' quiet about it and I ain't gonna bring it up with a woman who could level my house if she wanted. Besides, the boys told me what happened the last time they brought it up."

"What?"

"She threatened to walk."

"Empty threat." Ellen mused, tucking her hair back behind her ear.

"You reckon?"

"Yeah, I reckon." She snapped. "She loves those boys too much to leave them to their own devices. They'd probably kill themselves anyway."

"At least Dean's got taste." Bobby mused, looking at her thoughtfully. Ellen didn't seem to notice.

"Jo didn't stand a chance." She replied softly. It was a credit to Ellen that she could now say her daughters name. Life had been tough for Ellen Harvelle, but Ellen was tougher. "Not really. She had a silly crush, but I figure Dean's in for the long haul."

Bobby snorted in agreement.

"Ain't many who'd make a living outta this." He replied. "You gotta be tough, smart, resourceful..." He flushed. "She reminds me of you."

This got her attention and flinty brown eyes stared at him across the ancient sofa.

"You're a good woman...hell if you're not the best I know and..."

"You going somewhere with this, or am I just supposed to sit here and be flattered?" Ellen broke in bluntly.

Bobby threw up his hands.

"Oh for crying out loud!" he snapped, before leaning in and kissing her roughly.

He pulled back thirty seconds later, eyes slightly unfocused.

"Not that I'm complaining..." Ellen teased, looking unusually happy. "But why now?"

"Worlds gonna end," Bobby mumbled, looking rather pink. "Might as well."

She rolled her eyes.

"No, why not earlier? I've been living with you for months, Singer."

Bobby winced.

"Kinda figured you wouldn't want a man who couldn't walk up a flight of damn stairs."

Ellen scowled, glaring at him.

"You _idgit_!" She snapped.

* * *

The vampire was fast, but all vampires were. One of the muggle hunters in England that she'd come across had tipped her off, the muggle murders having not yet reached the Ministry of Magic's radar. Wiltshire wasn't her usual hunting grounds, in fact she generally avoided the entire county out of principle, but someone had to deal with the undead bastard. Thirteen muggle men had died and Hermione had the names of every single one seared into her brain as her feet pounded against the road.

It was dark and the vampire believed he had the advantage. Hermione was a scant five meters behind him, the dead man's blood she'd managed to inject into his system slowing him down enough that she stood a chance of catching up. Levitation charms had never been more useful. Up ahead she heard the vampire slow as it rounded a corner. Hermione scrambled up a bank, her machete held tightly in her left hand. The vampire had paused, momentarily distracted by something and she took advantage, leaping from the top of the embankment. The vampire stepped backwards, meaning that her blade sliced across, but not through, his neck. He made a gurgling sound that, had she not just severed his vocal cords, would probably have been words. Instead he lunged for her and Hermione sent a tripping jinx towards his feet, knocking him to his knees. She grabbed his hair with her right hand, yanked his head back roughly and quickly removed it from his body.

"Urk." Said Hermione, dropping the severed head onto the now collapsed body and wiping her hands on her jeans.

Somewhere behind her someone muttered,

"Shit."

Hermione spun quickly, still holding her bloody machete.

"Show yourself!" She demanded, stepping towards the figure hiding in the shadow of a nearby tree. There was soft sigh before a tall man stepped out into the moonlight. They stared at each other in amazement.

"Malfoy?"

"Granger?"

Draco Malfoy did not look well. His hair had been cropped close to his head, the short locks no longer slicked back but sticking up in a way which reminded Hermione of Harry. He was gaunt and pale, the poor lighting doing little to hide the large bags under his eyes or the sheer despondency which seemed to hang around the man. Hermione lowered her weapon somewhat sheepishly.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, now curious.

Malfoy flushed.

"Walking." He snapped, before he stared at the corpse behind her. "Uh...Granger did you just kill a man?"

She flushed.

"Technically...no. He was a vampire." She lifted the vampire's lip and showed him the fangs. Malfoy looked disgusted as she brushed her hands off on her jeans.

"And you beheaded him?"

"He murdered 13 people!" She protested. "_Incendio_" She added as an after thought, setting the body ablaze. She stepped closer to Malfoy and away from the flames. He stared at them, apparently hypnotized.

"Why you?" He murmured.

Hermione frowned at the wizard, looking for a shred of the boy she knew at school. Other than the crook in his nose that she'd put there himself, there wasn't much left to be seen.

"It's my job."

"What profession calls for knives as big as that?" The wizard asked doubtfully.

"It's a machete," She corrected, "And I'm in dangerous creature control these days."

His lips formed a silent "o" and he nodded.

"I shall leave you to it then, Granger." He told her respectfully and made to leave.

"Why are you being so civil?" Hermione asked.

He sighed heavily.

"Some of us learned things from the War, Granger. I wouldn't expect a hero like you to understand." For a second she heard the echo of malice that used to line all of their interactions before it was gone again.

He walked a further five paces before she called after him.

"Draco?"

The Slytherin shuddered at the use of his first name, but paused all the same as Hermione stepped after him.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"Nothing."

"Draco, you look like you did in our sixth year. I'd like to help, if I can."

He turned and stared at her.

"Why on earth would you want to help me?" he demanded hotly.

Hermione shrugged.

"Because I can." She murmured.

Malfoy smirked at her.

"Even you can't help me." He told her before attempting to leave. She grabbed his sleeve and held him in place, dropping her machete so she could rummage in her pocket.

"Here." She handed him a slip of card. "Call me if you change your mind."

Malfoy stared at her, looking confused, but pocketed the card anyway.

Hermione watched him leave, feeling both depressed and thoughtful. From what she knew, the Malfoy's had not survived their fall from grace well. Publicly ridiculed, they were all but outcasts in a society which had once worshipped them. She couldn't help but feel sorry for Draco, for all that he'd done to her in school.

The business cards weren't actually Hermione's. They'd appeared in her bag after the incident in TV land and Hermione suspected that they may have been an attempt at an apology for trapping her in a horror movie. She only suspected though because when asked, Castiel told her it was highly unlikely.

They were white with black lettering which read,

"_Winchester Creature Control,_

_The Family Business_

_Dean Winchester_

_Sam Winchester_

_Hermione Winchester_

_Castiel Winchester"  
_

and had their mobile numbers stencilled next to their respective names.

Hermione had tried to change her surname no less that thirteen times, but the cards continued to read Hermione Winchester no matter what she did. Eventually she just gave up. She didn't mind too much anyway.

After all, the Family Business had a rather nice ring to it.

_**A/N **_

_**Guess who finished college for the term!**_

_**Yep, updating should speed up now and I'll do my best not to make you wait for Swan Song too long. :)**_

_**Special thanks go to Woman of Letters for beta-ing this chapter, and thanks to everyone who keeps encouraging me. **_

_**My tumblr ask box is open anytime for questions or queries. **_

_**Do you know there almost no Hermione/Dean fanart? Sigh. **_

_**You'll hear from me soon,**_

_**Hood Out!**_


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